Metamorphosis
by Caffiend-Queen
Summary: What happens when Prince Loki is gifted with the Perfect Wife: a female genetically designed to be a faultless match in every way? He doesn't want her. She was meant for Thor. Everything was meant for Thor. She must be defective... Loki/OFC
1. I Am For You

What happens when Prince Loki is gifted with the Perfect Wife: a female genetically designed to be a faultless match in every way? He doesn't want her. How could something so perfect love HIM? She must be defective...

Notes:

This story is Alternate Universe to the Avengers. I liked the idea of trying to keep them around, but character development forbade it.

Chapter Management

Chapter Text

It's true that Loki was never one prone to self-examination.

Certainly, not when there were hundreds of others in his immediate orbit that required evaluation for weaknesses and faults, for value, or for being of no use. But, if he'd thought back long enough, the second son of Odin would have seen the odds_ always_ fell in Thor's favor.

Thor, the loud and brash eldest, always praised for his skill in battle, his popularity with the simpering females of any race, and the automatic assumption that HE, that blond lout- would be the one to rule Asgard and by default, the Nine Realms. By the time the pattern was clear, Loki was simply beside himself with rage. In the beginning, in his love for Thor, he _allowed_ the eldest to take credit for his darker brother's work. As the years passed, battles were won, treaties signed and the power of Asgard grew under Loki's subtle guidance. But even when he stepped forward, the fawning courtiers and even his own father raced forward to heap praises on the foolishly grinning mug of Thor.

It was easy, really. Despite the claims of Asgard's shining superiority to all the other realms, the populace there was just as blinded by the toothpaste-white smile and bulging muscles of Odin's firstborn. Not that Loki was without his admirers. Older women, in particular, intelligent females not so easily blinded by bellowing and the swing of a hammer saw the delicious possibilities in Odin's darker, more mysterious son. His sleek, muscled lines, the exquisite beauty of his fine-boned face, and the dark, vulpine smile were the defeat of many female's resolve. In fact, the younger Odinson lost his virginity before his brother- to a set of twins at court sent there to attend to his mother, Queen Frigga. But the afternoon they spent kissing and caressing a pleased adolescent Loki in the Royal Library certainly benefited _one_ member of the Royal Family- at least that's how they decided to remember that gorgeous interlude after being sent home by Loki's furious mother. For a boy of 15, they often reminded each other, Prince Loki was certainly packing a kingly measure of cock.

An organ that continued to grow along with the rest of Loki until he stood over 7 feet tall, ridiculously wide shoulders, long legs and leaner muscles than his brother's. But no one with even a bit of sense ever challenged the younger Prince to fight once word of his ruthlessness in battle and even in the practice ring spread. Beating and bruising bodies was one of only two ways Loki could let out his anger and frustration over the inexorable course that would lead to Thor's ascension. The other way was upon the willing forms of hundreds of females over the years.

The night the brothers were called to a celebration dinner with their father and mother, it was easy to see that even under his kingly countenance, Odin was excited, triumphant even. "What do you know," he gloated, "of the Nagovisi?"

Queen Frigga suppressed a smile. The negotiation with the Sisters of the Nagovisi was conducted nearly completely by her, but she allowed her husband his glee.

Thor was halfway through a leg of roast boar, turning his guileless blue eyes up long enough to look around the table in question.

Loki sighed, "Light Elves from Alfheim. They're an extension of the ruling family devoted to eugenics."

His brother slammed down the boar leg with a roar. "Yes, Yes! I remember! They create the beautiful women- goddesses so perfect that everyone in power through the Nine Realms has negotiated for their gifts."

"Precisely!" approved Odin. "These creations are the most beautiful of even the Light Elves, and as brilliant and kind as their finest minds can design. But there's more." He looked again to Thor, back deep into his dinner before giving up and turning to his youngest, who was leaning back in his chair and playing with his goblet of wine.

Folding one long leg over the other, Loki left his father hanging long enough to take another sip of wine before replying. "Their eugenics program is nearly as long as the length of history. Legend states that the Nornir ordered the Light Elves to create this line as payment for being the most beautiful of the Nine Realms. A more cynical view-" Loki smiled darkly, leaving no doubt which version he believed, "-is that the Nornir wanted to control fate by seeding the Nine Realms with their choice for kings, queens, rulers, and heroes."

Queen Frigga looked to her youngest fondly. "I doubt the second view, son. The Three Sisters are not sentimental. The Nagovisi Progeny are created as a perfect match-they're born, educated, and trained for whatever skills in which they show promise. Quite spectacular creatures."

Loki's face softened as he listened to his mother but still couldn't resist an insolent shrug. "Of course, but where is the sentiment in that?"

Folding her arms as a servant removed her empty plate, Frigga's smile was serene. "The Progeny are then placed in stasis- for as long as a century or more- until selected for a particular Realm and leader. These girls retain all they've learned, of course-but, they still return to infancy where they imprint upon their match and grow to reflect him- to share similar traits and values, needs and desires- they even change physically to form into a perfect pair. It's never less than a love match. After all, how could you_ not_ love someone who is everything you could possibly want?"

Thor's blue eyes were glowing with the possibilities. "How long do they live, Mother?"

Frigga smiled. "Only as long or as short a time as their match. It's said the Progeny's soul resides within her Other, and no one can survive without a soul."

"And thus comes one of the greatest triumphs of my rule!" Odin interrupted majestically. "My petition has been accepted. Your mother and I-" he nodded graciously to his wife, "-have been requesting a Progeny for Asgard for over 1,700 years."

Loki's jaw dropped. Thor was 1,775, while he was 1,659. the math, along with his father's intent, was quite clear.

Odin continued on, unaware. "We just received word. The Nagovisi's choice for us will arrive within the month. She is..." he was clearly elated. "She is said to be the finest Progeny created in 5,000 years. The honor of being chosen as her match gives this house an unmatchable level of prestige."

Walking down the hall after dinner, Loki was torn between the amusement of seeing the great Odin almost giddy with excitement- and fury that it was clear the choice for his throne was made before Loki was even born. After all the centuries of blather of: "The most worthy to wear the crown..." Bastard! Loki clenched his fists as he stalked through the gardens that he and his mother loved so much. In his heart, he'd long suspected Odin never intended to see his youngest rule Asgard, but his head was used to ignoring the lower vessel.

"Prince Loki, such a beautiful night, is it not?" Slowing at the overly sweet tone, his dark head turned to find a daughter of one of the men from the Vanaheim delegation. She was lovely in that knowing, entitled way the wealthy had, he mused, emerald eyes looking her over.

"My dear," he purred, "you've caused insult, I fear. You _do _know this garden is restricted to the Royal Family?"

Her eyes opened wide in faux concern. "Oh! Forgive me Prince Loki, I had no idea! How can I repair my fault?"

Mentally rolling his eyes, a cruel smile slid over that pale, fine boned-face. "With your obedience." Taking her by the arm, Loki bent her over a nearby bench so quickly the girl let out a small screech. His long fingers going into her hair and pulling her to his mouth, he hissed, "And also with your silence." Her hands gripping the bench so tightly that her knuckles were white. The nobleman's daughter appeared afraid, but as Loki whipped up her skirt and yanked off her undergarment, his lip curled to see her legs spread wider on her own. Opening his leather trousers enough to pull out his cock, already hard and ready to slide into her, Loki purred, "Can you be a good girl for Daddy? No crying, now."

Feeling the broad head of that princely cock against her opening, the girl wiggled hopefully. "Yes, Daddy," she giggled in a dreadful 'little girl' tone, "I'll be good- OH!" She was not inexperienced, but the size of the organ that tore through her was shockingly and painfully huge. Long, cool fingers slid to her breasts, playing with her nipples as she shook with the effort of adjusting to the Prince.

His lips brushed against her ear, "Are you ready to play, little girl?"

"Y- Yes Daddy," she groaned, trying to sound alluring, losing a slipper as her feet dangled off the ground.

Pounding into the girl with one hand on her shoulder and the other tickling her clitoris, Loki looked blankly ahead of him. How to counteract this latest development? With a perfect wife to sit on the throne next to him, Thor's claim to the crown was undefeatable. He shook his long hair, the black strands sliding over his shoulders. Ridiculous. There was nothing that blonde fool could do to stop him. Hearing the moaning of the girl below him change from pleasured to pained, his hips snapped harder, his lips moving in the sterility spell that kept his seed from taking root. Feeling the surge from his spine start tearing up his cock, Loki hoisted her with one arm and twisted her clitoris. Screaming, she came with him, half senseless from the twisted combination of agony and arousal Loki brought to his bed partners. Setting her back on her feet, Loki held the girl by her waist long enough to gather her scattered wits. "Oh, my Lord," she moaned, "I've never-"

Briskly pulling out of her, Loki flipped her dress back down. "Thank you, my Lady." He kissed her shaking hand and turned her in the direction of the gate. "Your exit is there."

"But- but my Lord-?" she managed, but the dark prince was already gone.

Word of the arrival from the Navogisi and their "gift" for the kingdom spread rapidly through the Nine Realms. Asgard hosted so many visitors that the palace staff was staggering under the weight of such a suddenly huge guest list. Thor became wildly elated, drinking and bragging more with the Warriors Three. Even Sif refused to accompany them anymore, irritated with the constant speculation and endless sexual innuendo about the Progeny. Loki was deep in thought as he dressed on the day of the Awakening. Angrily pulling on his green and silver ceremonial armor, his clever mind ran round and round endlessly, trying to find a way to turn the day to his advantage. But how to discredit a Progeny? There was simply no way. Allowing his servant to place his helmet over his black locks and fasten his cape, Loki made his way to the throne room. A sudden, savage smile crossed his lips. He would battle the Nornir themselves to take the throne for himself. There was _always_ a way.

The gigantic hall and throne room of the palace was crammed with finely-dressed bodies, all angling for a better view. Guards were jostled as they attempted to keep the lines straight to create a path for the Light Elves delegation. The cavernous space quieted for a moment as Odin and Frigga made their entrance, nodding graciously as Odin took the throne, Frigga gliding down and to the side. The brothers were next to thunderous applause. Loki smiled and nodded politely, his mind still racing through the latest challenge to his throne. Thor fed on the cheers, wildly waving Mjölnir until he nearly decapitated one of the guards. The princes stood opposite their mother, Loki winking one emerald eye as Frigga smothered her returning smile.

The Light Elves entered with no announcement, but the cacophony of the hall stopped instantly, smothered by anticipation. They were exquisite, Loki mused, the race all tall and beautiful, graceful beyond comprehension. It was unwise, however, to underestimate the fierceness of the Ljósálfar when threatened. Thor and Loki fought side by side with a battle unit from Alfheim during the Muspelheim Uprising. He'd never forgotten those shining warriors, covered in gore, their beautiful faces expressionless as they tore the demons limb from limb.

The dark prince's thoughts were interrupted by his father's majestic greeting to the Sisters of the Navagosi. They followed the royal contingent, flanking a long, shimmering container that floated between them. The silver sphere glowed: a thousand shades shifting over the surface, moving faster and faster as the group approached the throne.

"All of Asgard welcomes you!" Odin was at his most inspiring- voice thundering through the hall. The Light Elves bowed graciously in return.

"This is an extraordinary event," returned the Alfheim King. "While we do attend every Birth, this Progeny-" his silver eyes shifted to the glimmering sphere, "Asta is unique, even among the exalted Navogisi." He stood back sweeping an arm widely to display the Sisterhood. "Your Grace? Will you explain the process?"

A low note of appreciation simmered through the crowd as a lovely blonde elf stepped forward. She inclined her head gracefully to her King, then to Odin and the royal family. "Your Highness, it is our honor to present a most precious gift to Asgard. Though Asta is meant for your son, she also understands her role to your entire realm. A Progeny will have the care of the entire kingdom, as well as for her Intended."

Frigga smiled. The Navogisi understood the responsibilities of the ruling class.

"The Birth is quite simple; we would ask for quiet. Traditionally the event is witnessed only by her Match."

Loki had difficulty smothering his bitter chuckle. Of _course_, Odin would insist on all of the Nine Realms that could be contained within the great hall to be here to witness his triumph- snaring a Progeny for his first-born son. He had to choke down the searing rage that wanted to push through his mouth and bellow through the hall till it echoed.

The Navogisi Sister continued. "Would both families come forth?" Odin stepped down from the throne, offering his arm to Frigga as their sons followed. The Sisters of the Navogisi drew near, along with the Alfheim King and Queen. "Place your hands on the surface please- and gently! This acts as Asta's womb."

Loki eyed the colors swirling through the sphere before placing his pale hands on the lid. His sensitive fingers explored the matter- some kind of metal covered in layers of air and current. Looking down, he realized a dark violet pulse was eagerly following his wide palms as they moved. His dark head tilted suddenly, eyes closed and trying to concentrate. It was music- a song like a heartbeat and-

"When does she come out?" Thor's loud inquiry shattered the moment and a ripple of laughter went through the crowd.

"Quite soon, young prince. Now hush!" The attending Sister was not pleased. Frigga leaned to her and their hands moved together.

Sparks. Loki felt them now, tingling pleasantly over his receptive palms, rotating faster and sharper until the Sister announced: "It is time."

Everyone took a respectful step back, and the lid disappeared, revealing something of such rarity that even Loki was humbled. The serene face held a small smile, silvered hands crossed over her chest. Dark lashes and brows hid her eyes, and silky silver-blonde hair flowed over her shoulders. "Blonde and blue-eyed, no doubt." Loki thought bitterly of how well matched she would be to his brother. But he was wrong. Asta's eyes opened abruptly, they were the palest golden amber, the translucent shade before the substance hardened for eternity.

The girl sat up gracefully, regaining her balance after such a long sleep. Her womb shimmered and began to disappear as Asta put one long leg to the ground, then the other, straightening to her full height. She was tall, over 6 feet. Dressed in a simple white shift, she ran her pale hands over the fabric for a moment, gathering her composure. So many people. No one told her there would be so many- she needed to find Him. A gentle smile crossed her lips, amber eyes searching. The Sisters told many stories of how the Progeny knew; they just _knew_ the moment they laid eyes on Him. Walking in a slow circle, Asta's head turned right and left. Then, He was there. Right there and so beautiful- so much more than she could imagine. Tall and commanding, long hair flowing from his noble face. His eyes met her amber ones and Asta thought her heart might explode with joy. Stepping to him, she gazed lovingly up into his blazing emerald eyes and said the only words she could remember.

Loki heard them echo as he stared back down into her shining ones, so certain.

"I am for you."


	2. There Must Be A Mistake

What happens next when things don't go according to plan...

Notes:

I've always been interested in Matriarchal cultures- from the myths of the Valkyrie and the Amazons to the real-life groups that exist today. The name "Nagovisi" is actually that of a tribe near New Guinea, and also close to Native American Navajos, perhaps the wisest of the North American tribes.  
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Asta: old Norwegian for "divine beauty"

Chapter Text

The palace was in an uproar.

Not the general audience, of course, who cheered for the touching scene that played out before them- the sweet, beautiful girl waking to find her Other. Asta's tall form moved carefully through those surrounding her, those astonishing amber eyes seeking one man. Many women later gushed over the expression of incandescent joy she wore when Asta spotted Loki. The men in attendance groaned in jealousy over the simple sentence: "I am for you." Who _wouldn't_ want a creature of such supernatural perfection longing for them?

At that moment, Loki didn't. He stared down at Asta, gazing at him with such adoration. When she shyly reached out for his hand, he automatically gave it to her, although he disliked being touched unless it was sexually. He dimly heard the frantic, hushed buzz of conversation around him, but Loki could only seem to concentrate on the girl in front of him, gazing at his face as if he was everything- the sun, the moon, and stars to her. It was a strange and somewhat unwelcome experience. A gentle hand took his forearm, and he turned to see Frigga with an uncontrollable smile on her face. "Come, son. We must bring your Asta from here. You need some time to get to know each other in private." He numbly allowed his mother to guide them both from the gigantic hall after a short bow and wave to the thunder of applause from a tear-streaked audience.

The two royal parties collected themselves and waved benignly, smiling at the populace and heading for privacy. Walking with Asta at his side, Loki felt a dizzy sense of unreality. The girl- she was intended for Thor- _everything_ was intended for Thor. Was she damaged somehow in transit? Did she not understand her role? Nonetheless, he kept hold of the small, warm hand held trustingly within his. He was somehow reluctant to let go of it. Entering the privacy of the interior greeting rooms, the gigantic doors shut behind them, leaving the two groups to clash. Dimly, Loki felt Thor painfully punch his shoulder, saying "Congratulations, brother! A surprise, to be sure. But...I am happy for you both."

He idly waved off Thor's congratulations and the sting in his shoulder, still staring into the adoring amber ones of the girl who wouldn't let go of his hand. Loki bent his head to her, suddenly stern. "Who are you?"

Asta blinked, then recovered with a smile. "I am for you."

He shook his head, impatient with her. "That is not what I am asking you. What is your name?"

The first frown of her new life furrowed her brow. "I am... I am for you."

Loki sighed, putting his hands on her shoulders. "Then, who am I?" He watched the emotions play across her innocent face, her pale pinks lips attempting to form the words he wanted. "Can't you speak?" Loki asked irritably. "I asked you a simple question."

The Sister who'd overseen Asta's birth quickly stepped in. "My Lord, forgive me. Allow me to explain. Asta has been in stasis for over a century. She understands you, but she cannot reply. We find it is best for the Progeny to learn the language of their Match organically, so it becomes the native tongue. Asta will learn quickly, she just needs a little patience from you."

Loki looked at the Sister, not noticing Asta had taken his hand in hers again, holding tightly. "I don't-" he sighed, "how long does this take?"

The beautiful Light Elf wore an expression of surprising compassion. "I take it you were not expecting to be her choice?"

The dark prince's laugh was short, ugly. "Of course not. She was intended for Thor, we both know that."

To his surprise, the Alfheim Sister shook her head. "Not at all. These gifts... the Progeny- they are not designed in such a way. They seek who is meant for them. This is not the first time a court was shocked at the outcome. But there is no mistake. Asta was meant for you."

Loki ran a hand over his long black hair in agitation. "This is ridiculous. I was not seeking a _bride,_" he said scornfully. Asta's eyes filled with tears, and she looked soundlessly at him, then the Sister.

Smoothing a hand over the girl's long, blonde hair, the Light Elf hummed to Asta, radiating care and comfort. When the girl's frantic breathing subsided, the three turned to see the rest of the room was watching them. The Alfheim King's expression was furious. He'd already been dealing with agitated questions from Odin and then this further insult. "Do I interpret from the response of this House our Gift is UNWELCOME?" He paused, literally speechless with shock and insult. "Never in the history of Alfheim have we seen such behavior. I- You do not deserve-"

Frigga and the Navogisi Sister stepped forward quickly. "Your Highness, let us speak alone, and quickly. These words could start another Thousand Year War. Please, guard your tongues." Both Kings initially bristled until the mention of the thousand years of battle that nearly destroyed the Nine Realms. Placing Asta in the care of the Alfheim Queen, the four walked quickly into a quieter chamber to speak.

Asta's chest was heaving, trying to gather enough air on this strange and unfriendly planet. Every pretty story she'd been told- everything she'd been taught for hundreds of years was wrong. She wasn't wanted. It was a lie. Her life of faith and security in knowing where she belonged and what she was meant to be was shattered by the contemptuous expression on her Beloved's face. There must be something wrong with her, Asta thought wildly, perhaps she was defective in some way. She was supposed to mirror the emotions of her Beloved, but these feelings of pain and betrayal- they can't be correct, she _must_ be at fault. Trying to push air through her lungs in defiance of the tightness seizing her chest, the girl lowered her blonde head, trying to hide her weakness from the others. Asta could hear her Queen speaking to her, but couldn't seem to understand. Putting a small hand to her chest, the Progeny shamefully tried to stop. It was her. There was something wrong with her. She wasn't worthy- that's why He was disgusted-. The voice of her Queen echoed down the tunnel Asta fell through, happy to escape the realization she was never what she imagined herself at all. She was a monster. She was _nothing_.


	3. The Game Has Changed

In which Loki does what Loki does best. Betrayal. And hot sex.

Chapter Text

Loki was actually enduring a barrage of questions from his brother when Asta collapsed quietly onto the marble floor. He was trying to fend off his jealous sibling's queries while battling the strangest feelings- heartsick, disillusionment, and finally, a bleak emptiness that didn't correspond in any way with the current situation. So, it was Thor who sped to the girl's aid, gently picking her up and turning in a confused way to the Alfheim Queen. "My Lady? What should I-"

"You can put my bride-to-be _down_," snapped Loki, unreasonably angry at his brother for touching Asta. As tall as she was, the Progeny looked tiny and frail in Thor's bulging arms, and the sight sent a vicious bolt of jealousy through the dark prince. It was always assumed by palace insiders that Loki was consumed with envy over the firstborn son of Odin. But that was incorrect. The youngest was envious of the ease of how everything seemed to flow to Thor, but he wasn't jealous. The dark prince knew his own power. So, the feelings searing him at the moment were disconcerting.

Sif saved the day. "Now Thor, put her on the cushions here, I'll call for a healer. You know Loki doesn't like anyone touching his things."

Loki would have snapped back, but he was busy trying to soothe the enraged Queen of Alfheim. "What have you done, young prince?" She hissed, "how could you cause such distress to a Newborn? You have been gifted with one of the rarest beings in all the Nine Realms and you _reject_ her?" The fury radiating from her reminded him uncomfortably of the warriors he fought with during the Demon War, and Loki gave her his most charming smile, not really wanting to be torn limb from limb that day.

"Your Highness, please do not be distressed. Asta must have picked up all the confusion in the room- it no doubt overwhelmed her in such a fragile state." He watched as his parents returned to the room. "It couldn't have helped that she was forced to be Born in front of sixty thousand people," he said, making sure he was overheard, "apologies, my Lady." The Light Elf's fury was ebbing just as Odin's was dialing back up. Frigga and the Navogisi Sister stepped in, the Queen to calm her husband and the Sister to attend to Asta, pale and silent on the bench. Loki strode over, shaking off the others. "My Lady, is she well?" The Light Elf ignored him for the moment, running her hands over the girl's still form.

"Tell me what happened," she said firmly.

Shrugging his broad shoulders, Loki was honestly at a loss. "I'm really not certain. I was speaking to my brother and when we turned, she was on the floor."

The Alfheim Queen strode over, still clearly upset. "Asta was shaking, Sister. She put her hand on her chest as if she couldn't breathe."

The Navogisi sat up. "She'll be fine, Asta just needs to be away from all this discord and rancor. She's absorbing it as her own as if she is responsible."

Loki finally took back the control he'd relinquished during his bewilderment over how quickly the game had changed. Gathering Asta's form smoothly into his armored arms, he turned to the Sister. "I'll transport her to my rooms, we'll avoid the stares and delay of the halls. I'll have a guard guide you there. We will see you momentarily, my Lady." Before anyone could argue, Loki and his precious charge disappeared. Safely back in his rooms, the dark prince gave a relieved groan. How could this day have shifted the kingdom's axis so quickly? Lightly placing Asta on the bed, he shimmered out of his heavy ceremonial armor and into something more comfortable. Loki eyed the girl; his initial feeling of awe was still there- he'd never seen anything so beautiful. Running one big hand down her cheek, he stopped abruptly- the violet hue that followed his hands over her metallic womb was back, shadowing beneath her smooth skin just under his long fingers. Loki pulled his hand back as Asta's eyes opened again. The moment they fell on his face, he could see her relax gratefully back onto the green velvet coverings. "Are you well?" he asked. Her hands twisted together, but Asta smiled and nodded at him. The prince watched her slim hands grip each other, suddenly sensing she wanted to hold his again but feared to touch him. Putting on his most charming smile, Loki gently took her hand in both of his. "Darling, tell me- do you understand what I am saying to you?" The surge of relief he felt was palpable: _she wasn't rejected- he was confused, that's all- he was so beautiful... _She watched the look of surprise on her Intended's face as she nodded decisively. Blinking, Loki tried to recall what he'd asked. "Ah, yes. You do understand. We just need to teach you to say the words again, yes?" Another nod as her amber eyes followed his movements. "Let's sit you up, then, and..." Loki put his hands to her waist, intending to help her. He froze there, feeling the sleek curve of her body under her simple dress, his chest bent over Asta with his face close to hers. Without thinking, he leaned in, moving one hand to her chin to hold it still. Carefully pressing his lips to her pink mouth, Loki groaned without hearing himself. She tasted sweeter than the golden apples of Idunn- he wanted to pour himself into her mouth, bathing in the taste of her... His hand left her chin and he spread his long fingers along her jaw, into her hair, moving her closer. Loki could feel her soft breasts press against him as her chest heaved, he groaned and slid his other arm around her waist, pulling her against him.

Asta was half delirious with pleasure. She'd never been kissed- well, not by a man, at any rate, not in this way. Her slim fingers slid into his dark hair, feeling how soft it was, surprised somehow that it wasn't as hard and firm as the rest of him. Reeling from how good his mouth felt, the girl absently stroked his hair as she felt his tongue slide slickly across her lips. Loki took entry into her mouth from her little gasp of surprise. His sinuous tongue played with hers, twining round it, then sucking it hard. The prince grinned inwardly as he heard her moan, her fingers tightening in his hair. Tired of leaning over her, Loki pulled Asta to her knees, pressing her full body against his torso.

One slim hand grabbed the leather shoulder of his jacket as Asta regained her balance, her tongue eagerly chasing his until hers slipped into Loki's mouth- she stiffened a bit, tracing his even teeth, sliding delicately over his thin lips then feeling him suck her tongue again. He was cool, her Intended. His high cheekbones and firm jaw felt good against her flushed cheeks, his chill soothing the heat. His hands were huge, Asta thought dazedly, those long, clever fingers meeting at the small of her back as his hands slid back to her hips. The rest of him just felt hard- an immovable rock against which all things would shatter. Her Prince smelled so good, she shivered happily. Like mint. The smell of snow. Slightly of pine. Asta's brow furrowed. The faintest scent of blood.

Perhaps that thought caused her behavior. Because when Loki suddenly came to his senses with a loud knock on his huge doors, he spoke against those lovely, pillowy lips. "Darling, I'm afraid we must stop. I'm sure there's a delegation of the Ljósálfar outside that door- did you just_ bite_ me?"

Asta gasped as her hand flew to her mouth, horrified as she looked at the trace of red on His mouth. She _bit_ her Intended? What was she _thinking?_ she cursed herself.

Loki stood, swiping his thumb across his bottom lip, looking at the bit of blood it wiped off his mouth. He suddenly smiled. "Why, darling girl... I believe you're going to be so much more fun then I imagined." His emerald eyes twinkled at her aghast amber ones, both hands clapped over her mouth. Licking his lip clean as he walked to the door, Loki suddenly chuckled. The game had changed yet again.

Loki was correct, there was a large group in the hall outside his rooms. He graciously stepped aside to invite them in, taking the Nagovisi sister into the bedchamber and firmly shutting the door. Facing his unwanted guests, Loki smiled urbanely and said, "Since Asta's had a shock, we shouldn't overwhelm her with too many visitors." Frigga smothered a smile as she watched her youngest's horror at having so many people make themselves comfortable in his private chambers. Ordering wine and sweets, she allowed herself a small chuckle. The poor boy had no idea what lay ahead for him.

"How do you feel now?" The sister was checking Asta's racing pulse under practiced fingers, her sharp eyes spotted a bit of beard burn on the girl's pale cheek and correctly surmised the cause for the elevated heart rate.

"I'm fine, Sister, thank you. I'm so sorry for earlier, I don't know how I allowed myself to be such a spectacle." The two were speaking silently, telepathy between the Sisters and the Progeny was crucial during stasis, and the skill never faded.

"You didn't do anything wrong," she assured. "Flaunting a Birth in front of tens of thousands of people! You recovered very well. Now, show me what you were feeling before you fainted." The Sister took Asta's hands in hers, feeling the anguish, the loss and devastation, the torments of betrayal and no longer belonging, no longer being anything at all. The girl was fighting the feeling of her throat closing up, her chest seizing in grief. "Asta, listen carefully. What is the first lesson of becoming an Empath?"

"Learn to separate my feelings from the other's."

"Precisely, I'm sure some of those emotions are yours- by the Nornir, I've never seen such an awkward beginning! But you must identify immediately where those feelings belong."

Asta's brows drew together. "Those can't be from Prince Loki! He's a Prince of Asgard! He's loved by millions- he's- he's so beautiful and kind!"

The Nagovisi smothered her smile. "The House of Odin is notoriously private. No one can truly know the wounds carried by another, damage not healed from the past. Except for you. But you must stay centered and conscious if you are to be of use. I suspect the Prince has far a darker nature than he shows."

Her charge nodded. "I understand, Sister. I will be prepared from now on."

The Sister smiled and touched Asta's smooth cheek. "Very well. Let us have our first lesson in the language of the Aesir. Prince Loki."

"Pr- Prince Loki..."

"Good. I am Asta of Alfheim."

And so the lesson continued as Loki chafed under the occupation of his great room.

Hours later, Loki received word that his uninvited guests had decamped from his chambers and breathed a sigh of relief. "And is the Lady Asta still there?" he asked the guard.

"No, my Lord, she was removed to a suite of rooms near the Queen's,"

'So she can guard the girl from me,' Loki thought sourly, waving off the guard. "Wait!"

The man turned, "yes, my Lord?"

Loki suppressed a shudder. "Have my chambers cleaned immediately. Thoroughly." He looked back to Thor and his constant shadows, the Warriors Three. Sif had consented to join them this time, sitting just a bit back from the table. "Ah, Lady Sif," he drawled, "you look lovely tonight- even more so than your usual shining beauty."

Sif rolled her eyes, but grudgingly took her booted feet off a chair and kicked it over to him. Making a show of dusting it off, Loki sat and ordered another drink from his private stock. Whilst on an unauthorized trip to Midgard he'd discovered a beverage called "Scotch." He'd returned with several cases, which is how Odin had caught him... that time. "How is your lady?" Sif asked, taking another gulp from her tankard.

"Fortunately, much improved from when you saw her."

"Yes," countered Sif, "unconscious and on the floor isn't the best first introduction."

With a tilt of his head, Loki admired her sass. Good or bad, she'd never been afraid of him. "True, but being born in front of what- seventy thousand staring yokels is a tad draining." He frowned again, thinking her shy smile as she'd struggled to regain her composure.

"Why, Loki Odinson. Are you developing feelings for the girl? I didn't know that cold, black heart could crack open long enough."

The dark prince gave Sif his most contemptuous lip curl. "Now, Lady. Watch your tongue. We both know any sense was knocked out of that empty skull of yours after years of battle."

Eyes narrowed, Sif's hand tightened on her tankard. Loki sighed impatiently. "Throw that drink on me and you'll get the same- with an expansion spell that will leave you swimming in Jameson. You don't want to waste all the work you put into looking pretty tonight in hopes of consoling my dullard brother after not being chosen."

"You- you miserable creature! You just don't want anyone to be happy, do you? At least I-"

"Brother!" Thor interrupted, "come to the brothel with us! You may as well make use of your last days of freedom!" The gigantic blonde looked over to an angry Sif. "Come along, Sif! I'm sure they have a handsome boy or two in the selection!"

Loki bit his lip in the same spot Asta had nipped that afternoon, trying not to laugh and lose his intended finish to this game. "Go along, brother, and take those three louts with you!" Carefully not looking at Sif's stricken expression as the four staggered off, Loki calmly sipped his scotch, waiting for her to compose herself.

"Stupid bastard," she said, taking another swallow.

Taking her hand and kissing it gallantly, Loki smiled. "Yes, yes he is, failing to see a crown jewel when it's right in front of him." It was cruel, using the warrior's dreams of becoming Thor's wife, but Loki had certainly done far worse. Sif realized the dark prince hadn't let go of her hand.

"No! Not again, Loki! And what of your creation-wife-girl? What does one call her, anyway?"

He continued to place slow, sucking kisses on the inside of her wrist, ignoring her protests. "Come to my bed, darling. Allow me to treat you like the Queen you deserve to be."

It was wrong, she knew it was wrong... thought Sif, bent over Loki's table in his study as he vigorously pounded her from behind. She hated how Loki simply treated her like one of his whores, but the few times she'd spent in his bed when her resolve faltered- well, it was the only thing that let her forget about her longing for his older brother, at least for a few hours. Sif gasped as Loki wrapped her hair in his hand and yanked her up. "Ah-ah," he chided, slapping her sharply on her clit, smiling at her yelp. "No thinking of my brother when I'm balls-deep into you." He watched her hands slide, trying to get a grip on the polished table. Flipping Sif over, Loki put her legs over his shoulders, spreading them impossibly wide to admire the sight of his glistening dick plowing in and out of her. Sif was too lean and sinewy for his personal taste, but she more than made up for it by giving him another chance to cheat his brother. And he did so love her shame. Loki ran two long fingers over her lips, sliding them along her wetness, idly tweaking her clitoris as his pace increased.

"Would you like to come, Lady Sif?" He offered courteously, "so wet and wanting, aren't you darling?"

Sif gritted her teeth. She wouldn't do it. She wouldn't beg that bastard again like some bar strumpet! One of Loki's treacherous fingers slid into her ass, making her stiffen against him. "Mmmm..." he hissed appreciatively, "that always makes you so much tighter." He laughed as Sif gasped at his cruelty. Still pounding impossibly fast, Loki put his huge hand around her throat, tightening, then releasing, over and over. "Ready to beg, slut?" he inquired politely.

Sif's reddened eyes open to stare at him, blazing her hatred. Loki smiled at her tenderly as he put another finger in her ass, tightening his grip on her neck. "Just say it, darling. You know you'll feel so good... You'll have that delicious ache between your thighs for a week." Sif groaned at a particularly hard thrust. "Say it," Loki commanded, green eyes glowing with malice.

"Mmmmm..." Sif moaned, trying to hold on to her last shred of dignity.

"SAY IT! NOW!" Loki roared.

"I beg you, my prince!" Sif groaned, "I beg you to allow me to come!"

The prince above her smiled cruelly, his cheekbones standing out in his perfect face. "You may."

And as Sif was screaming and crying her release, over and over, Loki wondered what his mother was doing with his exquisite bride-to-be.


	4. You Must Play The Game To Its Finish

In which Loki is smooth and Asta is suspicious

Chapter Text

The Nornir clustered together, weaving their endless tapestry in subspace, cushioned by a pocket of ether called the Well of Urd. "You fool!" hissed Verdandi, "the girl was meant to select the oldest! She picks the Jötunn? What are you playing at!"

Skuld chuckled with a rasp, threading a new needle with green and amber silks. "You must the game play to its finish, dear sister."

Urd groaned, her voice rusty from disuse as she snipped another thread, smiling as she felt the life attached to it end. "Always the same between you. The game will play. With or without your bickering." Her rheumy eyes glistened. "Ragnarök will come."

Asta woke the next morning longing for her Intended. After she'd bitten him- (Bitten him! How could you, why?) she raged, she hadn't seen him again. the girl was disappointed, hoping to show him her fledgling knowledge of his language. With a sigh, she pushed down the covers of her new bed and stood, looking at her surroundings. Part of her wanted to protest the night before when Queen Frigga moved her from Prince Loki's bed to a suite of rooms of her own. Uncertain of this part of Aesir courtship, Asta didn't dare disagree.

"I think you will find these rooms more comfortable for the time being," Queen Frigga had said, her smile kind. "Until your marriage to my son."

Asta had smiled, bowing to her future mother-in-law's decision. Wandering to the huge windows flanking her bed, she smiled in appreciation. There was a garden below her- and unless her nose was deceiving her, a medicinal garden! Perhaps she would be allowed to gather herbs and plants for her work... The doors opened then, and three servants entered, flanking the Asgardian Queen. "Good morning, your Grace," Asta smiled, curtseying as well as her nightdress would allow.

"Good morning, my dear," Frigga's smile was kind, meant to be reassuring, but Asta longed for her son, wishing that Loki had walked through the doors instead. "How was your rest, my dear?" she continued, joining the girl at the balcony.

Asta smiled in spite of herself, "Your Grace, I fear I have slept enough for a lifetime, but I thank you. The garden below us- I smell some wonderful medicinal remedies. Would I be allowed to walk through, perhaps take some cuttings?"

Her future mother-in-law's eyes narrowed with interest. "You favor the healing arts?"

Replying carefully, the girl smiled, "I am not as... skilled in the medicinal arts as I would wish to be, but healing is an important assignment to me. Perhaps you would allow me to follow you? Learn some of your knowledge?"

Frigga's brow furrowed for a moment before returning to her serene expression. "It would be a pleasure, my dear daughter-in-law."

Asta smiled in spite of herself, squeezing the Queen's hand. None of the Progeny had someone to call Mother. The Sisters cared for them all. She'd never even heard the word "daughter" in relation to her until this moment. "Thank you, Your Grace." Her gratitude was clear.

Walking through the gardens with Frigga and a trail of courtiers, Asta made mental notes of plants and herbs that the Queen recommended. Part of her mind was still processing her encounter with Loki the night before. She was still utterly mortified that she bit her intended, but his blood... a slight frown marred Asta's brow. With the little blood left in her mouth after nibbling his lip, she'd automatically processed the enzymes in his blood out of habit, and there was something off about his. The blood was rich, clear, obviously royal- untainted by excessive gene mixing. But... it wasn't full Aesir. There was something else in Loki's genetic makeup. But what?

"...Asta?"

Her blonde head shot up. "Your Highness? Forgive me."

Frigga shook her head, smiling. "It is of no consequence, dear. I wanted to show you the tarrow root. This root is dried and ground into a powder, used for..." The little procession continued, the brightly dressed women hovering like butterflies in the garden.

"Such a beautiful sight," purred a familiar voice behind them, "I fear I can hardly bear such loveliness all at once."

"Dear son," laughed Frigga, "I suspect you can bear far greater." Asta's heart started racing happily as Loki rounded the corner where he'd been hidden by a small tree. He was magnificent, she thought, tall and already impeccably dressed for the day in his traditional green and black. His emerald eyes sought for her first, smiling that dark grin that promised trouble, wonderful, delicious trouble.

"Mother," he kissed Frigga's cheek, already heading for Asta the second his lips left the peck. "And my bride," Loki purred. Asta heard one of the women behind her involuntarily moan and smiled before she could stop herself. She understood.

"Good morning, My Lord," she curtsied, "did you sleep well?"

Loki chuckled, having a hard time remembering pleasantries as he swiftly took her hand, leaning over it for a long kiss. His knowing eyes looked up from the movement, giving such a devilish intent that Asta blushed. "And are you well, dear Lady? I was devastated to return to my rooms and find you gone last night."

Frigga waved the courtiers to a distance, then shook her head at her youngest's practiced flirting. Asta looked alarmed at his teasing, "I- I'm sorry, My Lord. The Queen told me it was more appropriate for me to be away from you before the wedding?" Her tone was enough for all parties to know that she would have preferred to stay where she was as well.

"Ah," gloated the Prince, looking tauntingly at his mother, "it's because the Queen so enjoys teasing me, her youngest and most beloved son."

"None of that!" laughed Frigga, "You and Thor are- both my favorites," she and Loki finished together. Asta smiled serenely, happy to see the banter between mother and son. She'd always loved to watch children in the Alfheim royal family play with their parents.

The Prince's piercing eyes were back on her. "And you, my lovely Asta, how is it that yesterday you knew only four words- the four best possible words," he hastened, "yet today you seem fluent in Aesir?"

Her laugh was like a bell Loki thought, watching her amber eyes dance. "Your mother kindly supplied me with two storytellers from the court. I was awake most of the night speaking with them."

His brow rose as the three continued the walk, the attendants lagging further behind as directed by the Queen. "Why storytellers? We have some of the finest language arts instructors within a walk of the castle?"

Asta shook her head. "It is easier for me to learn through the stories of Asgard. Then, I understand the language, the con- ah, the context?" She glanced up to the Prince in inquiry as he nodded, "And then the history of your people, what's important to them."

Loki inclined his head. "Genius, really. Absorbing an entire world in one night." He offered an arm to each of the women, and they continued their walk through the garden, Loki chiming in as his mother continued the tour. Walking just next to the Prince was distracting enough, but Asta felt a pleasurable chill race through her every time their shoulders or hips bumped by accident. It began to happen enough, however, to realize it was Loki's intent. While discussing the hallucinogenic properties of stranglewood in his smooth, deep voice, he was still enjoying teasing his Intended. Asta was temptingly sensitive, a simple brush of his leg over her hip or flexing the bicep under her hand made her shiver. It had been a long time since Loki played such a subtle game. Nearly all the females he came in contact either blatantly pursued him or were easy prey once he started charming them. But even though this girl had chosen _him-_ Loki still knew the pursuit was his. As they finished the tour, Asta thanked them both. "It was such a pleasure, I've not had a chance to learn about plant-based medicinals with such expert guides. I'm so looking forward to trying a few of the remedies."

The Queen was enjoying the girl more and more. Asta's fragility from the first day seemed to have faded. She was livelier and obviously brilliant, eager to learn and ask questions. "You both must be starving," she said, "shall we eat in my great room? A little quieter than the dining hall."

"If you would allow it, Mother," Loki broke in smoothly, "I hoped to spend some time with my bride-to-be. Would you mind if she and I had a meal in my room?" He gave a vulpine grin to the Queen, letting her know that he intended to get Asta away from her one way or another. "Oh, and if it suits you, my Lady," he added, giving Asta's hand another lingering kiss.

"If it pleases the Queen?" Her amber eyes turned to Frigga hopefully.

Loki's mother knew when she was outwitted. "Off with the two of you, enjoy your afternoon." She shook her head, laughing. This might all go smoothly after all.

The minute they left the garden and the Queen's influence, Loki had the girl by the hand, leading her rapidly through the marble and granite hallways. Tall as she was, Asta was eventually trotting, trying to keep up with her Intended's long legs. Laughing, she finally teased, "Are we setting a new record for speed? I should have worn different slippers!"

Loki gave her a sinister smile. "I wish to get you to my rooms and behind doors before anyone else stops us." Looking down at her light footwear, he easily scooped her up and mouthed a spell to transport them instantly.

Asta gasped, "That was- that was amazing! Can we do it again?"

Walking to the table set on the terrace, the prince gave her an approving smile. "Most of those I transport tend to vomit afterward. This is a good omen, I think."

They were face to face, Asta suddenly aware her arms were still wrapped around those big shoulders of his, he still holding her in his arms, as she weighed nothing. "My Lord, I suspect it will be difficult for you to eat if your hands are thus occupied."

He smiled down at her, "I could always have you feed me." Asta laughed as he frowned mockingly. "No? Then I will let you down for a price. A kiss."

She nodded happily, closing her eyes and tilting her head up. Finally, after no return pressure, Asta's amber pools opened, looking confused. Her Intended was staring down at her. "I asked you for a kiss, darling."

Biting her lip in embarrassment, she arched her long neck up to him, tentatively placing her lips on his. A sigh blew from her mouth as his tongue prodded it open almost instantly. Loki's mouth moved over hers ravenously, tugging her full lower lip in his sharp teeth, playing with her pink tongue as his lips slid everywhere, finally heading to her ear, licking the lobe before giving it a sharp bite. Chuckling as Asta jumped, he reluctantly placed her on her feet.

He watched her tongue sweep over those full lips before she giggled. "Is that repayment for my savage assault last night?"

Loki arched a dark brow, "Well, it was quite a wound," he allowed, "I was too much a gentleman to draw blood."

Now Asta genuinely laughed. "Gentleman?"

He shook his head, taking her hand and drawing her to the table. "If you must insult me, at least let it be over a meal."

"I've hurt the feelings of Prince Loki? A serious crime in Asgard, I would imagine." Asta was trying to control her mirth, allowing him to seat her. The giggles stopped as he ran his long fingers over her neck as he passed to his side of the table. 'The game is on,' she heard, 'so responsive...' Sudden images of his bed. Two pale figures. His mouth on her breast, sucking her nipple... Asta quickly schooled her expression into a smile as her Intended sat across from her.

'A game...' she thought. 'This is a game to him?'

They ate, talked and laughed for several hours until they noticed the sun was setting. Loki groaned. "I must return you to the Queen, my Lady. She'll want to dress you up like a doll for your welcome banquet this evening." Asta nodded without complaint. She'd been drilled on the endless pageantry of court life. "Before I take you back, come to the study with me, I have those two books we discussed."

Asta smelled them the minute she walked through the door. Loki and a woman. Last night on this desk. Was she unconscious in his bedroom at the time? The table was spotless, but Asta could smell the arousal. The woman came, many times, she thought. The jealousy hurt, surprising her. Asta was a virgin, obviously, an intact hymen part of the value of the Progeny. But Asta knew the smells, the sounds and sensed the elemental pleasure of the act. Her slim hand reached out to touch the desk- her Intended was there, pushing himself into the woman... he was thinking of something else, calculating. Another game? Forcing her attention on to the prince, Asta watched him pull the volumes off the floor to ceiling shelves, stacked to bursting with books and manuscripts.

He turned to see Asta standing next to the table he'd fucked Sif on the night before, her pale fingers touching the surface. Flashing back to the night before, Loki smiled, smoothly drawing the girl away from the desk and out of the room. He could sense the girl was diminished somehow, but attributed it to fatigue. Bringing her to her rooms, he opened the tall doors and ushered her in, shutting them again. Asta watched his actions without comment until he turned to her with a set, intent expression. "Did you not say the Queen world be anxious to dress me, my Lord?"

"They can wait," he murmured, lowering his head. "Did I not warn you there would be punishment for your sauciness at the table?"

She elegantly drew her head back, eyeing him innocently. "I can only hope for your mercy, my Prince."

One huge hand pushed her gently against the wall, holding her there by her waist, while the other tunneled through her silky hair. As his mouth descended on hers again, Asta thought with all her hope, "Think of ME. Just me, my Intended. Not your games..." Loki's lips paused for a second, as he breathed in her sweet scent, feeling the warmth of her skin radiate off the coolness of his. By the Nornir, she _was_ a goddess.

Kissing her greedily, Loki was consumed by the feel of her pressing against him, her small hands clutching his shoulders and stroking his hair. Abruptly lifting her level to him, he savored her gasp. The dark prince stared at her widened eyes for a moment, trying to think. But his sharp mind wasn't working, feeling only the driving need to be inside this girl, to touch and bite and lick her. Diving back into her mouth with a moan, his hand slid up from her waist to smoothly cup one breast. Sliding his tongue into her mouth through her gasp, Loki pressed his forehead against hers, trying to regulate his breath. His hand gently pulled her free from the confining corset, one thumb brushing over the pink nipple. "So sweet-" he groaned, "everything about you tastes sweet." Sighing against his mouth, Asta pushed her breast into his hand.

'Think of me... only me...' The plea whispered in his ear, though the only sound in the room were their hushed gasps, moans stifled by the others mouth. Pushing his hardened pelvis against her thighs, all Loki could think of was falling asleep, still inside her with his long black hair against the pale skin of her breasts. The thought was so suddenly arousing that the prince was seconds away from embarrassing himself in his leather trousers.

"I must go," he said abruptly, dropping her back on her feet with a thump. "I'm sure Mother will-" Loki turned and kissed her again, capturing her flushed cheeks in his broad palms. He pulled away with a groan, Asta's lips trying to follow his. "Yes, these large banquets, there's much to do-" The prince had a hand on the door before he turned and lifted her again, placing her on a bureau to make them level, kissing her eyelids, those high cheekbones, her jawline, before sliding his tongue down the throbbing artery in her neck. He felt Asta suddenly wrap her long legs around his waist and groaned, pushing his hardened cock against her dress covering her spread legs. "Are you a virgin?" Loki asked suddenly, pulling just slightly back from her puffy lips.

Those amber eyes opened, staring into his as her hands still held on to him. "Yes," Asta said abruptly. "That's- that's all right, isn't it? I meant, I'm a fast learner..."

The vision of sleeping with his head on her breasts rose to the forefront of his mind again... the view of their pale skin against his dark green bedding, her arms holding him to her as he slept...

The loud knock on the door came as he'd warned her. "Lady Asta? We are here to dress you on the order of Queen Frigga."

They both groaned, Loki's head dropping to her bare breasts he'd freed from her dress, Asta's arms and legs wrapped around him. "A moment, ladies," he growled, gently tucking Asta's breasts back into her bodice with a kiss to the tops of both, tightening the laces again. He put his cheek against hers, "Tonight then, Princess." Loki whispered before pulling away to open the doors.


	5. We Will Discuss This Later, Little Girl

In which Loki discovers he is not the only one with games afoot. Also, angry Demons and hidden talents.

Chapter Text

Ordinarily, having that many hands all over her- plucking, pulling, lacing, twining and more would drive Asta mad. But her thoughts were completely consumed with the dark prince. Part of her still burned and stung over the realization that her whole-hearted selection of_ him_ didn't necessarily mean he'd had the same response to _her_. But granted, it was a shock. She saw enough from Loki to know he'd bitterly awaited Thor's triumph- anticipating Asta would stand in front of the blond giant and naming Thor as her Intended. The girl sighed heavily, and the maid lacing her bodice tightly looked at her crossly. Absently apologizing, Asta tried to plan. Prince Loki was known as a trickster- the God of Lies and proud of the title. If everything was a game to him, then she must become harder, less soft and loving.

"My Lady?" her dresser inquired, making Asta pay attention. "Please look in the mirror and tell me if there's anything else you'd like."

A Progeny was never vain in the conventional sense. Her purpose was always to blend and bind with her mate for the betterment of his title and reputation. The value of beauty was simply to benefit the increased stature of her Intended. But she _was_ beautiful, Asta was aware. Looking with a dispassionate eye, she knew that. The dress was in Loki's colors- green and silver. In this case, paler green to suit her hair piled high on her head and laced with strings of emeralds and diamonds. The gown was covered in intricate silver embroidery on the low-cut panel and tight bodice, again on the cuffs of the sheer sleeves and around the hem. They'd carefully applied a small amount of makeup and silver slippers. Asta shrugged, "Is this appropriate for court?" Seeing the surprised and insulted expressions around her, the girl realized her error. "Forgive me, I'm still learning the language of the Aesir. You've all worked very hard, thank you for helping me be presentable for tonight."

The insulted expressions disappeared, and one braver girl laughed. "Presentable, my Lady? There's no one in all of the Nine Realms who can match you. Prince Loki is most fortunate." Still indifferently eyeing her reflection, Asta nodded. If that was the case, tonight was the time to remind her Intended of this fact.

Asta was led through the endless granite labyrinth again, hearing the noise of the huge crowd-the laughter, muffled conversation grow as she walked closer to the Great Hall. The dining hall spread out into the larger space, covered in tables heaped with elaborate food and drink, flowers adorning every possible space and musicians crammed into the corner, trying to balance their music with the roar of conversation. The girl could just see the details from behind the entryway. Suddenly joined by the Alfheim royal party, Asta smiled in relief, curtsying low.

"How are you, dear girl?" The King was solicitous, lifting her back to her feet.

"I am well, my King," Asta answered with a bow of her head. "And thank you, Your Grace, for your care." She added, bowing again to the Alfheim Queen, who suddenly looked sour.

"You would not have required it if your Birth had not been so crassly received," the Queen fumed, "but I am pleased to see you recovered and utterly beautiful." She smiled on Asta, secretly pleased that her genes were part of this Progeny's mix.

The girl smiled and blushed. "I am honored, my Queen."

"Not for much longer," interceded the King. "We will escort you into the feast, and then gift you to Prince Loki. From then, your loyalty is to the House of Odin." Asta nodded and bowed her obedience, but her sorrow was clear.

"No frowns on that lovely face," the Queen gently scolded. "First and last, you are still of the Light Elves. You will make us proud."

The music sounded, and taking a deep breath, Asta and the progression into the Great Hall began. The never-ending expanse of marble and silk made a blur of the crowd, and Asta kept her head high, smiling serenely and looking just above the thousands of guests as she'd been taught. When the Alfheim King took her hand and placed it in the huge, cool one of Prince Loki, the applause was deafening. His sharp emerald eyes were ignoring the crowds and a cheering, looking only into her amber ones with a sly and sensual expectation that made her blush. Enjoying the flattering color on her cheeks, Loki turned her to the crowd as he elaborately kissed her hand. The volume of cheers and applause this time was deafening, and something in the dark prince stirred. He was used to this level of frenzy for Thor, but as for himself, the younger Odinson was rarely in this position. Asta leaned in close, speaking into his ear, "They love you, my Intended. Their happiness is for you." Loki's expression didn't change, but a dark joy grew within him. Perhaps his bride was correct.

Loki was never sure if it was his mischievous mother or an annoying stroke of fate, but Asta was seated with him to her left and the King of Vanaheim to her right. The single King of Vanaheim. "Tell me, Prince Loki," the King leaned into Asta slightly as if to draw closer to speak, "How is it the House of Odin was so fortunate in your petition to the Sisters of the Nagovisi? I must admit my House has repeatedly submitted a request for the Gift of such a jewel." The King smiled at Loki's Intended, and to the Prince's irritation, Asta smiled back.

Irritably taking a drink of wine, the dark prince forced a smile. "In truth, Your Grace I cannot say. But I suspect the charming and inescapably relentless hand of Queen Frigga. There is much to be said for the soft, yet firm hand of a woman. Correct, my darling bride?" Asta fluttered the thick fan of her eyelashes adoringly at Loki, causing the Vanaheim monarch's suddenly shaky hand to miss his mouth with his goblet of wine. His spiteful sense of satisfaction was immediately diminished when his bride took her napkin and daubed the King's soiled shirt with a look of concern. The push and pull of gratification vs irritability continued to sway him for the rest of the evening, as Asta did nothing but express her adoration for him in one hand, yet innocently respond to the subtle advances of the men around them with the other. Finally deciding to keep her to himself on the dance floor, Loki was gratified and aroused to see her grace. His bride was a wonderful dancer and her utter joy in movement showed it. His plan went awry, as dignitary after nobleman requested a dance, always looking to him first. But Loki knew he was required by the rules of court to allow it.

Sif watched the fuss, angrily ordering another goblet of ale when Thor was next to cut in line to dance with his future sister-in-law. The two looked beautiful together, she realized with a stab to the heart. Their matching blonde heads blended as the gigantic eldest carefully shortened his steps for the Progeny and bent low to speak with her. Their laughter cut into the warrior as she glared. "Fandral, ask me to dance," Sif ordered abruptly.

The pretty blonde looked up from flirting with the courtier's daughter on his lap. "I beg your pardon?"

Finishing her goblet, Sif stood, taking Fandral's hand off the ass of the girl and pulling him up. "Ask me to _dance,_ you simpleton!" she hissed. Already dragged out of his chair and down the stairs to the dance floor, the half-drunk warrior laughed.

"Sif, oh, Goddess of the Night, please allow me this one dance." Fandral recited with a ridiculously low bow.

"Fine," Sif said absently, taking his hand and moving purposefully through the crowd on the floor, closer to Thor and Asta, still smiling and laughing together.

When the new couple was within 10 feet, Asta stiffened. She knew that scent, even over the competing odors of food, perfume, sweat, and flowers, she _knew_.

"Cut in," hissed Sif between clenched teeth. Fandral's blonde brow furrowed before he realized his good fortune.

"Brother!" he hailed, "allow me a dance with the new Princess of Asgard!" When Thor looked reluctant, Fandral's sense of mischief rose. "No need to brandish _Mjölnir, _I wish only to dance with _your_ _brother's_ bride to be." His emphasis on "your brother's," brought the God of Thunder back to his senses, and he sullenly bowed to a pink and happy Asta, offering her hand to his comrade. She nodded politely to Fandral's invitation, and the two danced. They were perfectly matched, thought Loki with a rising sense of irritation. Natural grace and the long-held experience of Court sensibilities. But Asta was on fire with jealous rage.

"Your dance partner, Sir Fandral," she purred, "who is she?"

He looked over to Sif and Thor, dancing with more enthusiasm than grace. "Sif, my Lady. The greatest female warrior in Asgard."

"Ah," Asta allowed, "it's a pleasure to see that Asgard supports the true talents of women."

Fandral smiled politely, not really listening as he launched into his patented line of flattery. While he knew it was inappropriate to be speaking this way to the Intended of someone as vengeful as Loki, she was so beautiful that the pretty blonde warrior couldn't seem to help himself. She smiled and nodded, focused instead on Sif. This was her Intended's lover? She felt the anger and the desire for attention. But Asta couldn't gather a sense of jealousy from either from Sif or Loki. So, why? Why last night, just after she'd joyfully chosen him as her sun, her moon and stars? Asta coldly forced down the hurt. A game is afoot. Emotion simply distracts. Watching carefully as she automatically flirted back with Fandral, she realized the exchange. Sif loved Thor. Loki knew this and enjoyed pulling away yet another toy of his brother's, even if he thought Thor was unaware. But watching the blonde giant dance with the female warrior, Asta knew he was very clear about her feelings, but simply did not reciprocate. The eldest prince was simply too decent to play with her feelings. She sweetly went into dance after dance with the next eager suitor, always looking innocently to Loki for permission. Steaming inside with rage, he would always allow it, knowing it was inexcusably rude to refuse. After another hour or three of this game, the Progeny was exhausted. The task of focusing on her infuriated Intended, Sif, and still replying correctly to the banter of her dance partner was beginning to wear on her. Until the next nobleman stepped forward, hand out.

"May I?" he half-growled, and Asta stepped back. Her widened amber eyes sought Loki's; certain he would know.

"Muspelheim!" she pushed forward the thought with all her might, gracefully trying to draw away from his grasp. In a moment, Loki was at her side.

"I cannot believe you would possess an invitation, _Surtur,_" he hissed. With a jangle of strings, the musicians and the crowd fell silent. Odin stood, he and Thor shouldering through the retreating crowd.

"And why not, _boy?_" The King of the Demon World dropped his glamour, exposing the true horror of his countenance. "Surely, such a_ joyful _occasion, where invitations were sent to all Nine Realms would _never_ miss Muspelheim."

"Surtur!" Odin's commanding voice cut through the exchange. "It is a surprise to see you, Your Highness, but not an unwelcome one," he added, looking significantly at his enraged sons.

"Odin..." allowed the hateful rasp of the Demon. "Such a joyous occasion."

"You dare enter here!" bellowed Thor, shouldering forward. It was the signal Surtur's guards must have anticipated, because a good thirty of the guests around them dropped their glamour, showing themselves as the Demon guards of their King.

Odin angrily put up a hand to his son, ordering silence. "It is an honor to receive you, of course. You travel so rarely from Muspelheim, your appearance is somewhat of a shock. I'm sure you understand, Surtur." Odin's voice darkened; the threat clear.

"The Demon plays a deeper game." The thought was instantaneous from both Loki and Asta. They looked at each other briefly, startled, then turned their attention instantly back to the threat.

"Of course," growled the Demon ruler, "Muspelheim simply wishes to celebrate the good fortune of Asgard. Only twice since the beginning of Time have my people been Gifted with a Progeny. You would surely not begrudge me a dance?"

Asta heard the growls begin from both sons of Odin and stepped forward. "It would be my honor, Your Grace. With my Intended's permission, of course?" she emphasized, looking pleadingly at Loki. Asgard's ruler had his one eye also turned to his son, requesting his agreement. Green eyes passing from the mocking visage of the Demon to his father, then his Bride, Loki stiffly nodded. The musicians began again, and Asta turned to the creature in front of her with a smile. "Your Grace?" she noted, bowing her head politely as he took her soft hand within his clawed one. The tidal wave of horror and destruction that poured from the Demon King nearly sent her to her knees, but Asta forced the smile to stay on her face, pacing her steps to match the cloven hooves of her dance partner.

"You do not scream, girl?" The Demon's rasp intruded on her frantic efforts to build a mental wall between them.

"I have been in stasis for 115 years, Your Grace," she said politely. "I have learned from the history of the battle between your world and ours. But peace was declared, correct?"

"It was," Surtur allowed, tightening his grip. His clawed hand began to dig into the bodice around her waist, cutting through the fabric and steel stays like paper, touching her skin. "Yet we are not welcome here, in the_ shining halls_ of Asgard," he finished mockingly.

Trying to separate herself from the pain of the talons slicing into the skin under her ribs, Asta listened closely. "Perhaps, Your Highness, therein lies the problem? Isolation breeds fear. Your _peaceful_ appearance here tonight will surely go a long way to dispel that kind of superstition and ignorance."

His bloody eyes, busy darting around the giant Hall for threats, suddenly focused in on her. The mottled purples and burned gray of his brow twitched. "More to you, Progeny, than just ridiculous beauty."

Grateful for the ending strains of the song, Asta bowed gracefully to the monster before her. "Perhaps there is much to surprise you- and not unpleasantly- here in Asgard, Your Grace."

Surtur grunted, still looking her over in that slow and curious way, "Perhaps, Progeny." The Demon King turned and disappeared within his guard, leaving the Great Hall.

Asta gratefully felt the cool hands of her Intended grasp her waist as Odin and his guard followed the uninvited delegation, the King angrily waving back Thor and Loki as they meant to follow. The dark prince turned his bride to face him, looking at her closely. When his broad hand drew back bloody from her waist, Loki hissed in a breath of rage. "That demon filth! I will tear his-"

Stumbling a little from exhaustion and the blood trailing down her pale green gown, the girl quickly placed her pale hand on his armor-clad chest. "Please, will you take me from here before the blood causes a stir?"

Realizing the huge crowd his father had insisted on could easily turn into a stampede, Loki nodded and quickly cast a glamour to hide the stream of red pulsing from his Intended's small waist. The two exited quickly, Asta weakly leaning against a massive marble pillar. Taking Loki's hand, she squeezed it and concentrated, closing the wound, picturing the tissue mending and the several muscle layers beneath re-knotting into their proper form. Emerald eyes wide, the Dark Prince recognized what she was doing and moved a long, pale hand down Asta's side, helping her heal the wound. "Did he poison you?" He asked curtly, feeling the disturbance in her blood.

"Not intentionally, I believe," Asta managed, still focusing on stopping the blood. "Surtur's talons hold all manner of toxins. But truly, I think he simply does not understand skin is not the same as the hides on their bodies."

"That filth will die for-" Loki's white teeth were gritted with rage, and Asta looked up to him with all the innocent appeal she could pour into the glance.

"My Intended," she pleaded prettily, "will you take me to my rooms? I do not wish anyone to see me in this state." He nodded reluctantly, and keeping his cool hand against her wound, Loki angrily transported them to the quiet of her chambers. "Thank you," she sighed. "I would be grateful to sit down." Asta's knees buckled, and he guiltily realized how much pain she was in. Carrying her to the bed, Loki roughly loosened the laces on her corset and examined her cut and shredded skin. It was already knitting back together as if nothing had ever been amiss. A green mist flowed from his hand, helping her finish the task. Sitting back and looking at the pale, unblemished skin of Asta's torso, Loki's finely shaped brow arched.

"You're a healer." he said flatly.

"As are you," his bride countered, trying to pull the edges of her torn and loosened dress together. Loki's large hands moved to stop he, when he heard a knock on the doors and the entrance of his mother.

"My dear," Frigga's voice was concerned, "how badly are you-" The Queen stopped, looking down at their hands clasped over her ruined dress and the smooth flesh underneath. "My son," she continued, "your Father seeks your council in the Throne Room. I will care for Asta."

Loki's brow rose again in speculation, but he nodded politely to his mother. Turning to his bride, he raised her hand to kiss it. "My Mother is a great Healer," he assured, "I reluctantly leave you in the best of hands."

The Progeny nodded, smiling innocently up into his suddenly intrigued expression. "Thank you, my Lord. I am grateful for your assistance."

He still lingered, reluctant to leave until Frigga's hand touched his broad, armored shoulder. "I will care for her, Son. Go stop your brother from braining someone with his Mjölnir."

Loki stifled a laugh retreated with another kiss to Asta's hand and an expression that was clear: "We _will_ discuss this later, little girl."


	6. What ARE You, Darling?

In which Asta learns about orgasms and Loki learns about his lack of self-control.

Chapter Text

When Asta took a deep breath and turned to face her future mother-in-law, Queen Frigga smiled and firmly patted the seat next to her. "Come here, my dear. It seems we have much to discuss."

Loki was furiously stalking down the hall while thinking about his bride to be. 'Well, aren't you just full of surprises, darling.' he thought, pushing his way into the chamber behind the throne room crowded with Odin's military advisers.

"What are they playing at!" Thor was raging as his brother made his way to Odin's table. He turned on Loki. "How could you let that foul creature_touch_ her?"

Loki was ready to hiss a retort when Odin hastily held up a hand for silence. "Silence! Loki was correct to do so." His single blazing blue orb turned to his youngest. "General Magni, remove everyone." He continued to stare at Loki as the officials filed from the room and the door was shut.

"What did she see?"

Loki's brow rose. "I beg your pardon, Father?"

Odin angrily waved away the Dark Prince's pretense. "The Progeny is an empath. I saw it and so did you. What did she _see_?"

His son pondered the question, trying to decide what information he was willing to part with. "Blood." Loki finally said. "Blood and fire. There is a larger game afoot here- one Asgard was not aware of. Why he is here- his purpose- we don't know. But that demon filth's claws dug right through her steel-boned corset and into her skin. Mother is with her now."

Thor growled furiously at the news that Asta was hurt. "We return to Muspelheim to remind them of their place! We crush Surtur and all who-"

His father growled, rising from his chair and pacing irritably. "How many times have you learned, my firstborn, that war is not the first response! Use your head!"

Loki smiled inwardly, he so enjoyed these little moments.

Waking the next morning, Asta sat up hastily in bed, wincing slightly at her newly healed wound. Surtur's claws left poisonous residue behind- simply the toxins of his unnatural soul- but she and Frigga spent a long time cleansing her blood. Her dreams were plagued with screams, war, agony, and horror. Heading for the bathing chamber, Asta wearily tried to prepare for the day. Suddenly, she took a closer look in the mirror. The girl had been a pale silver-blonde for all 478 years of her life, but the thick hair tumbling to her waist was suddenly a golden brown, shot through with black, crimson, silver and lavender. Asta's smile was huge as she examined the alteration. 'The change begins.'

The brusque knock on her doors was the only warning as Prince Loki strode into his bride's chamber. Asta's maids were just lacing her into a sky-blue dress and fluttered out like a flock of startled crows at the angry wave of his hand.

"My Prince." Asta's brows drew together, "You look so weary." Genuinely concerned, she rose and went to him, only to let out a startled yelp when he took her by the waist and threw her some several feet to the bed. He was over her before she even finished the bounce of landing so hard.

"Darling," he purred, "we have so much to speak of, don't we?"

She was silent, amber eyes wide and watching Loki warily.

"Now tell me, how is it that these delightfully hidden talents were never presented with all the lovely attributes describing you, the Alfheim's Gift?" Asta was still speechless and trying to gather her thoughts when Loki's huge hand slid over her throat, his long fingers squeezing as his thumb pushed her chin up. The girl gasped but held still under the pressure of his hand. The dark prince's long body was on top of hers now, his heavy length pressing hers into the soft mattress beneath her. His face was so close she could see the sea blue flecks floating in the emerald green of his eyes. Loki's dark brow furrowed, his anger momentarily halted by the feel of her underneath him. He could feel Asta's pulse hammering against his fingers on her throat, the softness of her breasts pressing against him. Deliberately pushing one leather-clad knee between hers, the Prince gave a filthy grin down at his bride-to-be. A sudden rush of disjointed thoughts and images roared between the two of them like a flash flood, sex, and pain and blood and coming and wetness between them. Loki saw himself biting into her neck as he came violently, Asta felt the heat of his come boiling through her from his cool cock. Moments later, he was shoving his engorged shaft helplessly between her silk clad thighs and groaned as he felt himself come at the same moment Asta let out a shocked gasp, her hips wildly thrusting up at his rigid cock. Loki felt the warmth of her wet lips, even through the layers of leather and silk between them, groaning again as he realized they'd both come.

"What _are_ you, darling?" Loki's voice was guttural, deeper. "What are you _doing_ to me?"

Asta wanted to answer, she did. But the girl couldn't stop shaking and couldn't seem to find the words to explain to her Intended. "I- I don't-" she gave up, looking up at Loki, watching the blues and greens in his eyes swirl hypnotically.

"By Yggdrasil," he groaned, "did you make me come in my drawers like a _virgin?"_ Loki absently pushed his pelvis against her sensitive one, enjoying Asta's shocked gasp. "But then," he purred, grinning down at her, "so did you, didn't you, darling? And so sweetly, too..." Pushing aside the lacings of her dress not finished by his angry entrance and the subsequent fleeing of her servants, her dark Intended slid his long fingers past her silks and pushed against the wet lips of her pussy, enjoying her shocked gasp. Deliberately holding her gaze, Loki sucked his wet fingers into his mouth. This time, his groan was darker, more savage. "I thought nothing could be sweeter than your mouth, my bride. I was mistaken." The prince impatiently peeled away the layers of her dress to slide his fingers against her pussy again. Dipping the roughened pads of his fingers against Asta, he scooped up more of her slick, greedily tasting her.

The Alfheim Progeny was far past mortification and heading into shock. How could she have behaved so wantonly? "I- I'm so sorry, my Prince- I was unprepared, I-"

She felt the vibrations of his chuckle against the thin skin of her throat as he slid down her, kissing and licking her neck and shoulders, tearing aside her loosened corset to suckle her nipples on the way down her belly. Loki felt like his brain was on fire- all the angry questions he'd formulated during that tedious all-night military session gone as his mouth and tongue eagerly tasted her smooth skin until he reached those sweet, swollen lips. Holding her anxiously shifting hips in a death grip, his dark head lowered to smell her arousal. "Aaaaah... sweetling. You've made Daddy so happy." His broad shoulders shook with laughter as Loki heard his bride's mortified whimper as he ran his treacherous tongue against her. Asta's slim hands flew against his dark silk hair like anxious birds, unsure of whether to push him away or pull those long, black locks closer to her. He felt the sudden grip on his hair when Loki bit at her clitoris gently. "Shhh, now. I won't hurt you, darling. I'm just... playing with you, sweet Asta. Don't close your legs against me." Shoving his muscled shoulders between her shaking thighs, Loki kept them open as he leisurely explored her pussy with his lips and tongue. His bride gasped and nearly came off the bed when he slid one long finger inside her, gently testing and exploring her. "Ah-ah," he chided, "lay still. Be a good girl for Daddy."

Asta didn't understand how he was using the term in relation to what he was doing to her, but his dark words sent a shuddering bolt of pleasure through her. She could feel his teeth in a grin against her silky lips as his finger found her barrier and stopped, idly stroking the walls of her pussy. "My Lord," she moaned, "surely we mustn't-" The sudden sight of Loki's dark and furious eyes stopped her protests instantly.

"There is nothing I 'mustn't' do, little girl," he growled. "You belong to _me_. I am your Intended." Her feelings of fear and confusion swept through him, and Loki relented slightly. "You've never come before?" He tried not to grin at the furious blush that swept her pale cheeks as she shook her head 'no.' His spread knees still held her thighs open as his emerald eyes watched her face, his fingers still idly stroking her. "Why?" He was genuinely curious. The girl was nearly 500 years old and never explored her own pleasure?

Asta's pink mouth opened as she struggled to gather her thoughts. "I- I was raised by the Sisters. We did not much study the sensual arts, other than what... ah... what went where," she finished feebly, trying to avoid his piercing gaze.

Loki was still confounded by her admission. Since the lustful sisters meant to attend his mother "attended" to him instead, he'd used, explored and exploited sex and women almost daily. The thought that she'd never come on her own was startling and rather arousing. Though his cock was already hard again and begging for attention, the prince actually ignored it, too fascinated by the sweet girl still pinned underneath him. He swiftly removed her dress, pushing his hard body against her again. "This is almost criminal," he soothed, "this beautiful, lush body and yet no satisfaction for nearly five centuries?" Asta's eyes dropped shut, her thick black lashes fanning her cheeks as his sinuous hips slowly rotated against her, his calloused fingers still playing with her. "Poor baby," he crooned with a grin, "let me help you." Asta gulped as her Intended took her hand, opening his mouth and sucking on her fingers. "Start with these beautiful breasts," Loki instructed. Her huge amber eyes looked up at him again, embarrassed and confused. But the Prince frowned as he saw trust within them as well. "Do what Daddy does..." His long fingers rose to pinch and gently pull at one pink nipple, as he put her hand on her other breast. A feeling of savage triumph rose as he watched Asta's small fingers hesitantly repeat his actions. "Good girl," he purred, "now slide them down..." He took her hand with his, stroking their fingers together over her wet lips, feeling the smooth skin and swelling of her arousal. Loki laughed as he heard her squeak with embarrassment. "Ah- now don't be shy, darling. Daddy already knows how delicious and responsive you are." His cock hardened painfully as he watched her eyes open wide in shock as he moved her slim finger into her channel with his own. "Feel that?" Loki grunted, trying to keep his composure, "this is the sweetest, tightest quim I've ever touched. Feel your barrier?" Asta's gasp was his answer as her eyes searched his. "We won't break this today, darling. But I'm going to teach you how to make yourself come. By the time I tear you, you'll know how to make yourself wet and soft for me." Loki suddenly felt like his skin burning- something unimaginable for him. He impatiently tore off his jacket and linen shirt underneath, laying his naked torso back on her. The two suddenly moaned together. The feeling of her soft breasts against his scarred pectorals was unimaginable.

Asta was struggling to stay afloat in the ocean of arousal her Intended was sparking in her. All her discipline, her preparations flown out the window as his fingers manipulated hers. Loki's chest was intimidating. Clothed, he looked tall and slim. But bared to her, he was encased in thick bands of muscle, hair and random scarring. Her other hand crept down to stroke over the muscles moving under the smooth skin of his back. "No scars..." she mused, not aware she'd spoken out loud.

The dark prince's head rose from her breast. "What?"

She blushed uncomfortably, uncertain whether he was offended. "I meant- you've never turned your back on an enemy, have you? There are scars, here," Asta gently pressed against a bicep, "and here. But nothing on your back. No one has ever gotten close enough to betray you."

Her breath caught in her throat as his hand against her breast tightened reflexively. "And no one ever will." He answered coldly, withdrawing his fingers from inside her. Rising from the bed, Loki pulled on his clothes, handing his Bride her dress. Dispassionately watching her shaking fingers try to lace herself, he suddenly cocked his dark head. "Why is your hair brown?"


	7. You've Been A Bad Little Girl

In which Asta learns about retaliation.

Notes:

I actually typed this bloody chapter TWICE, watched it save and then discovered it didn't. And wept. Abridged version but I'll be more clever on the next chapter. I finally figured out where this was going... Yay, plot!

Chapter Text

While Asta was almost always a sunny-natured creature, she felt cross and out of sorts for the rest of the day. The girl dutifully spoke with Odin and confirmed Loki's theory that the demons from Muspelheim opened a portal somehow, thus escaping Heimdall's notice. She conferred with Frigga about the wedding plans. Asta attempted to meditate to remember more impressions from her time with Surtur. But still, she felt an unreasoning sense of irritation that kept her on edge. By the time her maids were attempting to dress her for yet another state dinner, the eldest finally snapped "Princess! If you please, we haven't much time. Can you stop fidgeting, I beg you!" Apologizing, Asta stood woodenly, trying to analyze her ill-tempered state of mind. Amber eyes wandering to her bed, she realized it began when Loki left her, taking those long and darkly tantalizing fingers with him. "We've dressed you in a paler gown tonight to set off your new hair color," her maid mentioned. "Did you... do this yourself?"

Asta smiled. "After a fashion."

Making the long walk down the granite walkway to the great hall, she was consumed with thoughts of her Intended. Asta forced herself to set aside worries about Surtur and his plans, along with Frigga and her ideas for the wedding. The girl knew she couldn't control either. But if Asgard and the Nine Realms were in danger, then she and Loki must be in concert. Asta jumped a little as a cool hand slid around her waist. "Forgive me, darling," purred her Intended. "I didn't mean to startle you. What causes you to sink so deep in thought?"

She forced a smile, staring up into the glimmering emerald sheen of the dark prince's eyes. "About the tasks of the day, I suppose. The House of Odin moves so quickly." Asta felt the flood of bitterness flow over her, along with the abortive thought '_Not_ my Fath-' before the image was gone. Before she could absorb more, the cheers from behind the door told her their names had been announced.

"Come, darling," Loki chuckled, "your adoring crowd awaits." The cheers inside the huge hall were deafening, and the prince performed as he had the night before, presenting a demure Asta to the crowd then gallantly kissing her hand. The Progeny felt the swell of spiteful satisfaction from her Intended. 'So Thor does _not_ get everything...' he thought, and her pink lips twitched as she stared up at him with worship on that sweet face. The cheers swelled again, along with many sighs over the beautiful couple. Loki's eyes ran over her with pleasure. His bride was wearing a pale amber hue to match her eyes, her darker hair setting off the shade in sharper contrast. There was elaborate green needlework on the bodice and a daringly low back that showed off the girl's sleek spine. She wore no jewelry and little makeup to avoid distracting from the fact that his Asta was simply exquisite.

Seating her graciously at the head table, Loki bent to his own seat and froze. Asta was seated next to Sif, and suddenly his leather coverings were painfully pressed against a massive erection. A flood of images of fucking his bride right there on the table between the roast goose and the fruit display buried everything else in his restless mind. Dropping to his seat, the second born of Odin forced himself to not groan.

Asta understood the dynamic of what happened on her Intended's desk that night- she did. But the sudden smell of the woman next to her sent a painful push of images of Loki fucking the warrior back into her consciousness. That began the avalanche of erotic visions that melded with Loki's perverse pleasures and nearly incapacitated her Prince. Her hands shook, barely able to eat more than a bite or two as Asta angrily concentrated on the arousal that would guarantee her Intended would think of no one but her that night. Loki couldn't touch his plate, trying instead to drink himself back into some semblance of normalcy. The Queen's brow furrowed as she watched the two. Frigga couldn't read minds the way Loki and her soon-to-be daughter-in-law could, but a mother knows her son. And she knew there was a savage battle of wills taking place in the middle of the celebration.

"Do you fight, Progeny?" Sif asked suddenly, uncomfortable being next to the girl but refusing to acknowledge why.

Asta shook her head. "I fear combat is not a skill I can master. I had a fencing instructor... but he gave me up as a lost cause."

"Then you have no way to protect yourself?"

The smile the girl gave Sif was not pleasant. "I can protect myself. I do not require weapons to cause harm." That ended the conversation and both women turned away, relieved to have it over.

In the meantime, Loki's drinking numbed his painful engorgement just enough to track where his erotic torment was coming from. As dessert was served, he leaned into Asta and kissed her smooth cheek, murmuring, "Nothing served tonight could ever be as sweet as what I tasted this morning, my pet." His hand slid over her thigh, gripping it. Not gently. The contact helped the dark prince retaliate with images of his own, and Asta gasped.

'He wants to- oh!' she thought, 'here? In front of everyone?'

Loki's grin was savage as he squeezed her again, this time at the thin skin between the top of her thigh and Asta's suddenly molten center. She could feel his nails dig into her through the delicate fabric of her gown as she "saw" Loki throw her face first on to the table. The girl could feel the push of her lush breasts slammed against the hard surface, the cool air suddenly on her thighs as the Dark Prince yanked her skirt up to expose her swollen nether lips. Asta shook with the effort of seeming calm as she witnessed the shock of the hundreds of dinner guests watch Loki press the huge head of his cock at her opening.

His cool lips were back against the girl's hot and flushed cheek. "Oh, little girl. I would absolutely fuck you Right. Where. You. Sit." Loki's sharp white teeth found Asta's tender earlobe and bit down, ignoring her tiny yelp. "You've been a bad little girl tonight, teasing Daddy."

The thick fan of her eyelashes brushed her cheeks as Asta struggled for control. Part of her was still longing for that thick head of her Intended's cock to push into her. Loki's fingernails dug painfully against her slick and willing pussy as he appeared to sweetly kiss the delicate skin behind her ear, slipping his tongue over the sheen of perspiration his filthy words was sparking from her. "If you ever play with Daddy again like this, I will fuck you. In front of everyone and make you moan and beg like the dirty little girl you are. Do you understand?"

Asta was humiliated to hear how her voice shook. "Y- yes."

Loki's grip tightened. "Yes, what?" To her horror, two long fingers began pressing against her clitoris.

"Yes, I understand?" she moaned desperately. Asta was gritting her teeth against the inexorable tidal wave pulsing inside her.

The blur of color and conversation around them faded as Loki persisted. "Yes, what?"

"Mmmm..." she whimpered, feeling those horrible, clever fingers play with her. "Yes- yes... Daddy? I promise Daddy! I promise!"

Loki chuckled as the heel of his hand shoved against her tender clitoris, feeling her orgasm slam into her as Asta tried not to cry out and moan for him. And then to his shock, just as he had that morning, the legendary God of Lies came again in his drawers. Like a virgin.


	8. Black As Midnight

In which our lovers must face the Walk of Shame.

Chapter Text

Loki was so consumed with lust and the visions his sweet, "innocent" bride had poured through him that it didn't even occur to him that he could have simply cleaned himself with magic. Instead, the Dark Prince of Asgard trudged to his chambers twitching uncomfortably from the come coating his pelvis and leather coverings. The realization made him unreasonably furious at Asta, though she'd made the same miserable trek to her rooms. The Prince was ready to haul her back to his bed- wedding night be damned- until Frigga gracefully swooped in just after dinner and took his bride away. "Wedding plans, my dear son," she said sweetly, "I'm sure you understand." Glaring at his meddling parent, Loki was forced to bow and kiss her hand as the Queen led Asta away.

It was much later that night when the Progeny fell asleep. Her future mother-in-law kindly peppered her with questions about the wedding as the night dragged on. Asta's hopes of perhaps seeing Loki again that night were dashed as she simply agreed with Frigga on nearly everything. Finally, the Queen let out a frustrated sigh. "I begin to feel like the cruel mother-in-law. You've simply accepted all my suggestions without comment. My dear, it is _your_ wedding."

The girl was instantly remorseful. "Forgive me, Your Grace. It's just- we both know very well this is a state affair meant to bring further glory to Asgard. I am happy to play my role. But the event itself... it really has very little to do with me."

Frigga raised a brow. "And this doesn't upset you?"

Asta rose, shrugging. "I have been trained to know my responsibilities. I will perform them to the very best of my ability." She absently ran her slim fingers over a flower arrangement, enjoying the velvety feel of the petals. "But since I was Born, my only true wish is to know your son better. Our start was not... auspicious. I fear I am unprepared."

"How so?" The Queen poured a glass of wine for the girl and one for herself.

The first sardonic smile of her life passed Asta's pink lips. "I was always told by the Sisters that the union was nothing but joy- that my Intended would be as happy as I was. I suspect now that many stories I based my faith on were perhaps fairy tales. I'm trying to find my way with the Prince. He is... complex."

There was laughter from the other woman, who placed a strong hand on Asta's. "My dear, you did choose the God of Lies, you know. I know my son is far beyond complex. He is convoluted, dark, conflicted and often filled with a rage that never seems to fade away."

The grief from Frigga radiated through Asta's heart as well. "Your Grace, can you tell me why... why would he think himself a monster? Why he would feel the Allfather is not his father at all?" The Queen's hand suddenly tightened reflexively on her own before Frigga hastily dropped it. For a moment- just a blink- Asta saw blue. Jötunn blue.

"It is late," Frigga said, "and you need to rest. We'll speak again."

It was clear she was being dismissed, so Asta curtseyed respectfully and left.

Lying in her huge bed and amber eyes watching the progress of the moon, the Progeny couldn't sleep. Her questions unsettled the Allmother, she was certain. Frigga broke physical contact, perhaps thinking it was the only way Asta could read another. The blue. What did it mean? Even his loving mother spoke of her Intended's dark and sometimes destructive nature. How could she help him? Finally exhausted by the endless questions, she fell asleep.

The dream was beautiful, Asta swam in the warm waters of the ocean, the huge moon holding sentry overhead. There was utter silence, free from the cacophony and posturing of the Court. It was wonderful there, gloriously restful and free from the confusion of the last few days. As she paused and floated for a moment, Asta felt a chill cover her back, an ice-cold form aligned to hers. "Who!-"

"Shhhh..." the sibilant whisper could only be her Intended's, the depth of his tone vibrating through her skull.

Hands covered her bare breasts, so cold that the warm water coating her was forming into patterns of frost. Her nipples were hard and painfully firm under the long, chilled fingers of the man behind her. Asta shivered violently. "My Prince. Let's swim to the beach, I'll find you dry towels and warm you."

"This is fine," she could hear the diabolical amusement in his voice as Loki spoke into her ear, sending off another shudder. "Darling, did you have the _slightest_ idea what you were choosing when you stood before me?" His icy fingers were still playing with her, one hand sliding down the goosebumps on her stomach to her warm pussy.

"I only know- ah! So c-cold!" Loki's long fingers slid into her warm channel, and Asta heard the low groan behind her.

"You're like the sun, little one. Molten." She felt the chill of his breath against her neck as Loki chuckled. "Continue, darling."

"I kn-kn-know what I felt." Asta's teeth were chattering, but she forced herself to answer. This moment was important, she could feel it as strongly as the frigid fingers stroking inside her. "You are the one I've sought forever. I was created for you. And y-y-you for me."

"Really..." The whisper was resonant, a grin forming against the numbed skin of her neck. Asta could feel strange bumps, raised markings on the body behind her, still pressed firmly into her back. When she tried to touch him, he hissed "Stop!"

Literally frozen in place, the Progeny gazed up at the moon, willing energy from the lunar companion to force her body to adjust to the arctic bite of the man wrapped around her. She must be able to hold- she _knew_ it. The moment was crystalline: Asta's breathing slowed and her icy skin relaxed against his. "Let me touch you, my Intended," she moaned, those horribly clever fingers still trailing frost inside her warm pussy. She could feel his surprise, fingers stilled on her nipples and between her legs. "Let me see you. I've chosen you. For everything you are. Let me see."

The wintry fingers began their play on her again. Asta heard another low "Hmmmm..." speculative this time. Pondering. Tucking her head into his ridged neck, her hips began moving with his tortuous fingers.

Gathering her courage, the girl tried to turn in his arms. "Please?" The polar limbs around her withdrew. A single word whispered in her ear.

"No."

When Asta woke the next morning, her hair was black. Black as pitch. Black as midnight. Just like her Intended's.


	9. Wear This Mark Today

In which Loki gets all bossy and Thor is the one "burdened with a glorious purpose." Educating his sister in law.

Chapter Text

Perversely, Loki was instantly pleased when he first saw his bride's latest transformation. The maids were just twining strings of pearls through the inky curls and piling them on top of her head when he sauntered into her chambers the next morning. "Beautiful," he praised, eyeing the way the blue-black sheen made her skin look even paler. But that changed as Asta flushed with pleasure, the rose glow spreading over her cheeks, down her neck and breasts. Chuckling, the prince ran one cool finger down to her cleavage, "So warm... like the sun, darling." His knowing emerald eyes over her shoulder as he touched her told Asta her Intended had indeed invaded her dream last night.

Despite herself, her full lips curved into a pleased smile, so grateful for Loki's approval. "Thank you, my Lord."

"How long does this... transformation continue?" he asked curiously, that long, wandering finger of his joined by the four brothers, all stroking her long neck and cheek.

Asta shrugged helplessly. "In truth? I do not know. It all depends on the bond."

Loki drew closer, still looking at the two of them in the mirror as he placed a kiss on one bared shoulder. "Will your eyes change color? Will you grow taller?"

His bride could feel the satisfaction radiate from Loki- that the power of her bond to him could actually create a genetic change to mimic the dark prince. Her amber eyes searched his. "I am not certain. Some features change to reflect you, my Intended, some change to counter characteristics of yours. I am meant to compliment you, not necessarily mirror you."

"Interesting..." he mused. "Strengths to my weaknesses? Light to my dark?"

She couldn't help it, Asta burst into laughter. "Weaknesses? The words Prince Loki of Asgard and weakness surely have never been heard in the same sentence." Watching as the mischief gathered in his emerald depths, Asta jumped when his teeth sank into her shoulder.

"Are you _mocking_ me, darling? Teasing your Intended?"

Eyes drooping from the sharp gaze of his, the girl shuddered pleasurably as his teeth sank deeper this time. "Never, my Lord," she moaned and smiled at the same time. "The God of Lies? Being teased? Never such a frivolous thing to a man of your stature."

Loki's brow rose skeptically at her half-apology as the rest of him noticed her shake as he bit deeper. He forced himself to pull back before those sharp, white teeth went through her skin. Hands rose to her breasts, stroking gently as he licked and sucked at the bite mark. Standing, he looked down with satisfaction at his helplessly aroused bride. "You will not heal that mark," he commanded, "I want you to wear it today."

Slim fingers fluttered up to touch the red mark, still in the perfect shape of Loki's mouth. "But... my Lord... You would wish the court to see such a thing?"

"Are you ashamed?" he purred into Asta's ear, running his nose down her neck to kiss the mark again.

"No!" the girl said, shaking her head decisively, "I just thought perhaps it was a bit... brazen to display. In front of your parents and brother, the courtiers..."

Loki laughed darkly. "Why darling, that's exactly why I want you to wear it. Now, do as your Daddy tells you."

Asta nodded, sliding up her drooping sleeve but keeping it away from the bite. Suddenly, she felt his cold hand sliding into her hair. "What do you say, little girl?"

Remembering their exchange at last night's banquet, she answered, "thank you... Daddy?" Asta yelped as he bit into the mark again and then licked it.

"Very good, baby girl. You're learning." With a last caress to her cheek, the dark prince turned and left, allowing the maids huddled in the far corner to finish their work on his trembling bride.

Walking through the medicine garden, Asta was taking advantage of a brief moment to herself. She could feel the tight coils inside her loosen as she wandered through the trees, clipping a leaf here and there.

"My Lady!" bellowed a familiar deep voice, and Asta's lips twisted in amusement. The eldest brother of Odin hadn't spoken much to her- not that there was ever a time or place to do so.

"My Lord," she greeted, dropping a brief curtsy.

He shook his huge blonde head, "You do not bow to me, my Lady. We are equals."

"When I marry your brother I suppose I'll be considered Asgardian royalty," she reminded him. "But right now, I am merely a bride to be." Asta continued to walk, and to her surprise, Thor followed her.

"How- how have you been?" he asked awkwardly. "Your Birth- it wasn't meant to be that way."

Amber eyes narrowed on his sharply. "How do you mean?"

Thor's blue ones widened back. "I meant no disrespect, my Lady. I admit I was shocked, I somehow- I suppose I expected-"

Asta smiled, immediately setting him at ease again. This creature unnerved him, even as he followed her every movement through the palace. Thor _did_ expect to be the one smiling down as she joyfully chose him, but his brother was now indeed the most fortunate man alive, as far as he was concerned. "I apologize for my defensiveness, it- it was an uncomfortable beginning, was it not?"

They looked at each other and broke into laughter, it was cleansing somehow. They continued to walk together talking about Asgard and Asta questioning Thor about his life. While she was genuinely interested in knowing him better, the strange dynamic between him and Loki was central. She smiled as Odin's firstborn waved his hands wildly, retelling a story involving him, his brother, six Dward Shieldmaidens and a barrel of ale. It hadn't taken long to see some of the threads that wove the cloak of rage her Intended wore. Thor _was_ central to his father, and to the kingdom. It was clear he'd won praise for battle campaigns and political strategy that Asta easily recognized as bearing Loki's distinctive twists and turns. Always the shining sun to his younger brother's more subtle glowing moon. She glanced up quickly as his warm hand touched her neck, brushing lightly. "My Lady, there's an insect or- Oh. I beg your pardon." Asta stared at the uncomfortable, embarrassed expression on her brother in law's face. Touching her neck, the girl flushed, too.

"Oh, it's just a- just..." When the Dark Prince left that morning, her staff asked to change her hairstyle to conceal the mark, but she'd refused.

"Yes," agreed Thor uncomfortably, "that." He looked like he was trying to decide what to do with his gigantic paws, finally clasping them behind his back and staring ahead as they walked.

"May I ask you something, my Lord?" It was an impulsive request, but Asta felt she could trust this man.

"Anything, as long as you call me brother, or Thor, or fool." He grinned down at her. "Anything but my Lord," he affected a pompous tone as he said the last, and the Progeny chuckled.

"Well, then. Brother," she emphasized teasingly, "I thought- well, I've been studying Asgardian language since I came here, but perhaps I am still weak on some of the idioms." Thor nodded encouragingly, looking down at Asta's sweet, earnest face. "What does it mean when a man, ah, not one's father but a romantic interest, requests that you call him 'Daddy'?" His jaw dropped, but she'd been distracted by a butterfly and continued talking. "The romantic interest calling one 'little girl', and-" A choked noise from the God of Thunder made her look up to see his beet-red countenance. "Oh..." she gasped, stricken. "Was this an inappropriate question? I am so terribly sorry, I just-"

"No! No, Asta." The blonde giant gallantly stopped choking and tried to focus. The girl would surely die if she discovered what this meant without him clarifying it first, no matter that he was possibly the most inappropriate choice in the Nine Realms to explain. "I'd forgotten you don't have any female friends here yet, aside from perhaps my mother."

Asta smiled innocently, looking up at him. "I don't wish to expose my ignorance in front of my future mother in law, I suppose. The Queen has been so good to me."

"Don't!" barked Thor, "Ah, don't ask my mother. No need." He mopped his suddenly sweating brow. "Heh." Subtlety and understatement were never the firstborn's forte, but he was willing to try for the exquisite girl in front of him. "It's a... heh. Some men enjoy... some men enjoy a relationship with their beloved that is... heh... a dominant one over her. 'Daddy' is an expression of his authority, and calling her 'little girl' means he cares for her and tends to her needs as his submissive. Not just... oh, by Mjolnir! This is not a conversation I planned to ever have- at any rate, it is usually not just in the bedroom but as a dynamic used for their entire relationship." The poor man was covered in sweat and bore a look of extreme discomfort.

"I see..." Asta continued walking again, the now traumatized God of Thunder beside her. She was thinking so hard that it took her a moment to realize how acutely uncomfortable she'd made him. "I am truly sorry, brother. I didn't mean to embarrass you." Thor sat down with a thud on a nearby bench, and she perched beside him. "You're never going to look at me in the eye again, are you?" she asked sadly.

Wiping the sweat off his brow, Thor shook his head. "Nonsense!" he disagreed stoutly. "Not the conversation one expects to have with a sister-" he shuddered briefly, "-but knowing my brother, I think I can feel confident I explained it appropriately to you."

Unfortunately, Asta quickly picked up on his meaning. "So he does this often," she said, suddenly dispirited.

Putting up a frantic paw, Thor hastened, "Not in the way you think, sister. You would be the first to be his companion. Not just wife, but his first full-time lover." She thoughtfully chewed at her lower lip for a moment. "So, my Intended is a... what is the word, a slu-"

"Stop!" Thor was at the end of his ability to bear this surreal conversation with the girl he'd expected to marry. "By the Nornir, Asta! You_ have_ been in stasis for a century, and most men traditionally have more experience in this field than women. Loki is not unusual." The last was a lie, and Thor knew it. By the time he'd figured out how to plunge his hand down a girl's dress to seize her breast, Loki had gracefully unlaced at least 100 corsets ahead of him. But for the sweet girl to return to his dark brother and say the Firstborn agreed he was a "slut" was the beginning of a battle of epic proportions. "You must not repeat this conversation with Loki. I am sure my brother will help you understand more after you wed."

Asta's smile came out again, as bright as the sun above them and dazzling the sweating mess seated next to her. "Thank you, brother. You have been so educational and so very kind." Leaning over to look at his shaken countenance, she frowned. "Why is it that you and the Lady Sif have never... been romantic? She seems so much like you."

It was then that the Progeny realized there was more depth than she'd attributed to Thor. He smiled down at her, a little sadly. "It is _because_ the Lady Sif is so much like me. Some men dream.._. I_ dream of coming home to someone softer, and kind. Someone to soothe me." Impulsively leaning over to kiss his bearded cheek, Asta smiled.

"Then I am certain this woman will find you soon, brother. Thank you for our talk." Rising gracefully from the bench, she nodded at the red-faced blonde and left the garden, unaware of the furious and silent man watching them.


	10. You Asked Thor For WHAT?

In which Asta discovers even the best of intentions can merit discipline when her Intended is the God of Trickery and Lies.

Chapter Text

Asta returned to her duties, obediently standing still for the final tailoring on her wedding gown while repeating the formal phrasing of the Asgardian wedding ritual to make sure she knew it by heart. Blessedly, there was no grand banquet that evening- the girl hoped that perhaps Loki would like to have dinner together. The servant wearing his colors and entering the dressmaker's room seemed to hold promise to that regard. He bowed and nodded to Asta, holding out a glossy green box. "With Prince Loki's compliments, my Lady."

"For me?" she reached out with a smile. The first gift from her Intended must be treated with care. Delicately opening the box, Asta looked in to see a silver necklace with a huge green emerald in the center. As she held it up to the light, the dressmaker's girls sighed. "So beautiful!" the Progeny gasped.

"The Prince requested you put it on," the young servant said. Asta nodded and put the necklace around her neck and instantly winked out of sight.

Reappearing in Loki's chambers, the girl laughed for a moment, steadying herself. "I love that!" Looking around, there was no sign of dinner or of her Intended. The lighting was dimmed in the central room and it appeared she was alone. "My Lord?" Asta called uncertainly, "Are you here?" Walking around the room, she absently straightened a pile of books and fluffed a pillow or two. She heard movement from the bedroom and knocked on the door. "My Lord? Thank you for your beautiful gift, this necklace-" The huge door opened abruptly and she was pulled in by a force she couldn't see. Gasping, Asta tried to pull her arm away from the invisible grip, in time to see Loki lounging on the bed. With an elegant wave of his hand, she was released from the hands propelling her. This Loki was unknown to her, Asta thought. He was dark and expressionless, none of his usual smooth charm. He didn't rise to greet her, simply scrutinizing his bride with an uncomfortable level of intensity.

"Have you changed your mind already, darling?" Even his exquisite voice was colder, more abrupt.

Shaking her head in confusion, Asta walked closer. "I'm sorry, my Prince. I don't understand the question."

His low, sonorous voice was directly in her ear now. "It's a simple query, little girl."

Asta gasped, turning quickly to find nothing but the blank face of the door. Whirling round again, she warily eyed her Intended. "You must forgive me. I don't know this game. What are we playing, my Lord?"

With a growl, Loki was off the bed and grasping her upper arms with a brisk shake. "Do you prefer my brother, my lovely little slut? Blonde and loud, eager to worship you?"

Heart sinking, the girl realized he'd seen her with his brother in the garden today. "I- if you'll let me explain- we just spoke of your childhoods together, about growing up-" Asta's spine stiffened as she felt a cool, broad chest push into her back. The arms that came around her waist from behind were those of the Dark Prince- the man currently in front of her as well. The two of her Intended wound around her, squeezing and pinching as one whispered in her left ear, the second Loki in the right.

"Sweet, dirty slut," the Loki in front mocked. "Those words of 'I am for you.' And you? Or him? Or that fellow? Such an honor, I can tell."

"STOP!" hissed Asta. "You will NOT mock what is sacred to me! And- and- and this phantom before me? Please send him away."

Loki's brow arched. Never once had anyone been able to discern between his true form and a clone's.

Asta tearfully pushed away from him, shaking. "If you truly believe I would dishonor the vows of the Nagovisi made since the beginning of time, you must send me away. But I cannot allow anyone, not even my Intended to mock our life's purpose."

Loki stared thoughtfully at the girl in front of him, flying into his face to peck him like a determined dove. He knew she'd done nothing wrong- but the sight of her laughing and joking with that blonde ox- kissing him on the cheek! Unimaginable. Unspeakable. With a wave, he removed his duplicate. "Then what were you sharing with my brother that caused him such arousal?"

"Oh..." Asta's fire suddenly deserted her.

Loki's long fingers traveled up her arms and into her hair, pulling the long black strands loose from their ornaments. They clenched, and drew her startled face to his. "I'm waiting, darling..."

Her lovely porcelain skin was a painful shade of crimson as Asta looked up to him. "I might have- I- I might have asked him about some Asgardian idioms that..."

She felt those strong fingers cradle her skull and neck, wrapping around her securely. "Go on..."

"I'm still learning," she pleaded, "I didn't know what-"

"Know what, darling?" Loki's voice was cool and composed, but his hand tightened in her hair, the other ran just under her breasts, cementing Asta against him.

"I asked him why you wanted me to call you Daddy and why you called me little girl!" It all came out in a rush, and Asta clapped a hand over her mouth. Amber eyes clenched shut, waiting for the explosion from her volatile lover. His muscles arm tightened almost painfully against her ribs, then the girl heard something utterly alien: her Intended was laughing. Actually laughing. Asta could feel the shaking of his broad chest against her back. The cool press of him backed away, still laughing and increasing in volume.

"You- you actually asked Thor about Daddy kink?" The uproarious laughter continued as his bride cringed.

"Forgive me!" Asta pleaded. "I didn't know what you wanted from me- I read through several books but didn't find a reference!" She frowned as Loki collapsed on a couch, laughing so hard he was no longer making any sound.

"What-" he gasped, "what did he tell you, darling?"

Asta's eyes were huge. Seeing Loki fall apart in the most glorious way was terribly distracting- she loved how his laughter literally set him alight. "Your brother said... um... that you as- as a Daddy meant you were dominant, and you called me little girl to show my submission and care for me."

Loki's elegant brow arched. "That's a surprisingly accurate appraisal, especially coming from that oaf."

"I have a question..." Her dry mouth made Asta stop for a moment, swallowing hard to continue.

He leaned forward suddenly, his emerald eyes keen and sharp again. "Yes, darling? What is your question?"

Squaring her shoulders, the Progeny looked him in the eye. "Does this whole Daddy-little girl dynamic not require my agreement?"

The slow and savage grin that spread across his face unnerved Asta, but she stood her ground as he rose and leisurely made his way to her. Standing close enough to look down his patrician nose at her, Loki purred, "Would you not prefer I show you the ways of court life here is Asgard?"

"Yes," she said, licking her dry lips.

"If you were weary or afraid, would you not prefer I protect and care for you?"

"Yes..." He was so close, Asta had trouble concentrating when she smelled that wintry scent on him again.

"Would you not prefer I show you how good I can make you feel?" Loki was practically purring now, a leopard's growl that rumbled through her. "As I touch these sweet breasts..." She stifled a moan as his long, clever fingers slid over the material guarding her bosom, peeling it away easily. "Perfect, pink nipples," he observed, "I can never decide whether to play with them or suck them immediately." He proved his point by bringing the left into his mouth, tickling the tip of her stiff peak with his tongue as his teeth gently held it still, while his fingers continued to twist and tug at the right. Asta forgot everything but the sheer electrical pulse running through her, centering from his mouth and fingers and shooting sparks everywhere inside her shivering form. Slim hands reached up to run through Loki's black locks, clenching involuntarily when he hit a particular nerve. His eyes opened into slits, the glittering green glowing behind his half-closed eyes. Barely loosening his teeth from the pink nipple, her Intended rumbled, "Well, darling bride? Shall I leave you alone?"

"No!" gasped Asta desperately, her cheek on top of his head and hands tightening as if to keep him there. She let out a squeak as Loki whipped her around, pressing her against a marble pillar as he loosened the stays of her dress. As the pale flesh of her back appeared, he grinned and ran the tip of his tongue down her long spine. "Ohhhh..." she moaned blissfully. The concentration of all the conflicting sensations made her dizzy, all Asta could do was cling to the stone support to keep upright.

"Would you not prefer I show you all the pleasures of your undeniably exquisite flesh? How delicious it can be to submit to my will? Knowing that anything I take from you I will return one hundred-fold?" She could feel his lips spread in a grin against the base of her spine, then Asta jumped and bit her lip hard to avoid letting out a small shriek: feeling the bite of his teeth against her thin skin there. "Ah-ah," he chided, "no stifling all those sweet noises you make. If I am your Daddy, I will _own_ them all: every whimper, every cry, every begging moan. Do you understand?"

"I think so..." Asta whispered, trying to regain her composure and failing as she felt her dress slip off her shoulders and down to her ankles. His cool, huge hands slid up her endless legs, thumbs shifting over the twitching muscles under her skin. Loki could tell the exact second his bride realized there was nothing between him and her naked body save a nearly transparent silk shift. "M- My Lord, the wedding night-"

"Shhhh," the dark prince soothed, "your maidenhead remains intact until then. You have my word. Would you like some additional... education to make your decision about becoming my submissive?" Loki sweetened the deal unfairly by gently running two long fingers between her legs, stroking the slick dripping from inside her to her swollen lips, then her clitoris. He knew perfectly well that he could simply order her to behave in the way he demanded as her husband, but getting this sweet, innocent creature to accept the role- even to _beg_ for it? Well, that was something else entirely.

Asta rested her flushed cheek against the cool marble she was leaning against. "What education, my Lord?" She felt his broad hand slide down her spine, the cool of his palm was wonderful against her heated skin. His hand paused over her bare bottom, then rose and slapped the spot sharply. Asta stiffened and gasped. "Ah! W-why did you strike me, my Prince?" His other palm was rubbing her abused ass gently, cooling the heated mark he'd left.

"Sometimes," Loki soothed, "sometimes I will spank you for being naughty, today being your example."

She moved obediently as her Intended guided her to the bed, seating himself and holding her hand. "Why?" Asta whispered. "What did I do?" A Progeny was all that was obedient, gracious, accommodating- to the point of body alteration. The simple phrase 'naughty' was horrifying to her. Loki chuckled as he took her arm, pulling her over his spread knees and settling her onto his lap.

"As your Intended, why did you not seek out my counsel to understand these words?" His tone was deceptively gentle, but Loki's hands felt like iron, curled around her.

Asta's head drooped, her chin to his lean thigh. "I was ashamed to be ignorant of something that was obviously important to you, my Lord," she whispered.

"That is why I am here," he continued unsympathetically. "Have I ever mocked you for not understanding a word or ritual?" Unbidden, the first night when he'd asked her questions and she'd been unable to reply rose to the forefront of both their memories. Loki sighed. "Forgive me that beginning. I was not prepared for you, either, darling." He watched her dark head nod, still facing down over his lap. "But now," her Intended continued, still stroking his broad palm over the soft cheeks of her bottom, "now as your Intended, this is my role. Do you understand, Asta?"

A chill rose over her as the girl realized it was the first time her Intended had used her name. "Yes, my Prince. I understand."

A black grin spread Loki's lips to hear his bride submit to his logic. "For this, my darling, I fear I must discipline you. You will lie still. If you move or try to defy me, I will begin again."

Asta's head shot up apprehensively. "B-begin what, my Lord?"

"Your punishment," he said smoothly, tenderly rubbing her ass again. "I will strike you five times. You will not move or make a sound. Do you understand?"

The girl's head was blazing with a thousand different images gathered from her beloved books, trying to understand what Loki required of her. The closest Asta could find was a passage showing a father spanking his child for some naughty behavior. "I..." she sighed, exhausted with trying to navigate the complexities of this man and his world. "I understand, my Prince. I will be still." Despite her promise, the Progeny was still shaking. He'd leaned over to sweetly kiss her forehead, then her cheek. So Asta wasn't prepared when his big hand slammed down on her bottom. "Oh! OW!" she gasped.

Loki made a disapproving sound. "I told you, darling. No sound. I must begin again. Be still." He felt her silky curls slip over his thighs as she nodded, gripping him tightly. The next slap was just below her bottom, and Asta clenched her eyes shut, biting down sharply on her lower lip. He grinned, his tone was falsely soothing. "Such a good girl. Be still now..." The next one hurt more, and his bride could taste blood from gnawing on her treacherous lips. "Three left," he whispered. "Will you submit?"

Asta buried her forehead in his thigh. "I-I can be still for your punishment," she said stubbornly, knowing very well she wasn't answering his question. The next strike indicated his displeasure, but she held on to the moan that threatened to surface and held herself motionless. Grudging respect rose from Loki, even though he was irritated she would not give in.

"Very well," he said tersely, slapping over a red mark already decorating her fair skin. Asta jumped but didn't make a sound. Loki's rough fingers slid between her lips, admiring the sparkle of moisture from her displaying on his hand. He used the wetness to slap her again, enjoying the extra sharp impact. 'When does this stubborn girl capitulate?' he thought crossly. But the Progeny held still with gritted teeth for his final two strikes against her red ass. Asta sagged in relief when she felt his cool hand slip over her heated bottom again. "Oh," he purred, "_such_ a good girl. A_ very_good girl." Loki smiled sardonically, realizing she didn't dare make a sound yet. "You may speak, darling."

With a huge gasp of relief, Asta whispered, "Thank you, my Prince." She felt his other hand stroking her newly dark curls lovingly, and it gave her the courage to ask, "Have we finished?"

"It depends," Loki purred. "What have you learned, my angel?"

Asta sniffled a little. "To ask you first if I do not understand something?"

"Exactly!" he praised. "Can you understand that to ask my brother- anyone else at court, really- shows that you do not trust me to help you learn?"

Her head shot up at that, those huge amber eyes tear-stained and guilty. "I didn't! I'm sorry! I just didn't want you to find me... ignorant, I guess."

"There is no shame in having to learn something new," Loki said gravely, "I will never mock you for not knowing a concept if you simply ask."

Asta sat up on his lap now, hissing at the pain of her striped bottom, but sincerely sorrowful. "I did not mean to embarrass you," her penitent eyes stared into his stern emerald ones.

Loki lifted her hand, kissing it. "I know, darling," he soothed. "Do we understand each other now?"

"Yes, my Intended," she whispered.

"Very well." Asta heard a snap of his fingers, and suddenly the dark prince was smoothing some kind of lotion on her painfully hot and sore bottom. She sagged in relief against his lap, feeling the cool balm sink into her skin. She'd never been struck before- for anything. Discipline among the Sisters of the Nagovisi was almost unheard of. Every Progeny was aware of the gift of her existence and eager to be perfect. And Asta was _so_ very desirous to be perfect.

Though it was the night before her wedding and Asta knew the following day would require all her good sense to do what was expected of her, it was impossible to sleep. Kicking her soft coverings down to the bottom of the bed crossly, she wiped the sweat from her forehead. It was so hot in her room- ridiculously hot! The Progeny rose to open her balcony doors, gratefully feeling the cooler breezes against her flushed face. Tracking the moon in the sky, she knew it was close to dawn. Sighing, Asta crawled back into the soft linens. Loki had drawn her to the doors of her chamber earlier- kissing her again and again, murmuring what a _good_ girl she was- what a perfect, lovely girl. When her Intended used that sweet tone on her, there was nothing his bride didn't yearn to do for him. Finally drifting off to sleep, the Progeny wore a tiny smile as she carefully moved to one hip to keep the pressure of the mattress off her sore bottom.

Wandering through the gouts of fire and agonized screaming, Asta didn't recognize the terrain. But she knew the smell, the sounds and the feel of Surtur and his hellish tribe. They were not in Muspelheim, perhaps that blasted landscape too barren for even them. Maybe inNidavellir- the mangled shrouds of earth that could once be the mines the Dwarves loved, now raping the earth of its treasures. Around her, unimaginable tortures continued as she staggered through the horrors she witnessed. At first, Asta tried to help those suffering, until she watched her pale hands slide through the unspeakable injuries and anguish of those on the ground. She felt the filth of the Demon King before she saw him- the flood of sulfur, blood, and offal invading her nostrils and making her gag and retch helplessly. A sharp-taloned hand yanked her head upright. "Shall I kill it?" A Muspelheim guard's voice oozed death and horror, and Asta could do nothing but continue to vomit on the bloodied ground.

"Ah!" One sharp nail drove under her jaw, forcing her face upwards. Surtur looked her over dispassionately. "What have you DONE, Demon!" Asta gasped, "Why? _Why would you do such a thing?" _She sobbed, glancing around at the utter ruin he'd created.

His deformed skull twisted as Surtur stared at her curiously, his mangled mouth contemplating the words. "Why? Because it is our nature, Progeny." His words drooled over his lips like black blood, dripping down the scar tissue of his chin. Asta gritted her teeth when his claw shoved her face closer to his. "And _you_," the Demon hissed, "YOU are to be part of Asgard's downfall. You will stand by my side and watch. It. _Burn_..."

Asta screamed, shooting up in bed and sobbing hysterically. It was a dream... surely it was only a dream, made manifest by her fears... Curling on her side again, the girl clutched her blanket to her chest, shaking uncontrollably. Just a dream... She was sure of it.


	11. He Will Feel The Same, I Assure You

In which Loki keeps a promise. Well, one that benefits HIM. But still, he keeps a promise. So, that's good.

Chapter Text

The smooth lips of her Intended roused Asta from her exhausted sleep the next morning, the sun just coming over the horizon as Loki's sweet kisses and whispers woke her. As first, she gratefully slipped her arms around his strong neck, relishing in the feel of his mouth against her, those long fingers stroking over her thin nightgown. Finally awake, she gasped and sat upright, pushing away from him. "Stop! Phantom, why are you here?" Loki raised one elegant brow, looking back at her.

"Darling," he soothed, "why do you fight me?"

Asta pushed her inky curls away from her face, sitting up against the headboard of her bed. "I know you, Phantom," she said flatly. "You are _not_ my Intended."

Loki's clone sighed, then smiled at her soothingly. "My darling, I cannot enter your bedchamber," he admitted sourly, "my Mother has cast a spell forbidding it. Likely knowing I could not wait until our wedding night to have you."

She blushed, looking down at the pillow she clutched protectively between her and the clone. "Then, why are you here?"

Emerald eyes smiled warmly at her as the clone leaned closer. "I had a promise to keep, darling."

Asta scooted back on her bed. "I am sorry, but I don't feel comfortable. I don't want you to touch me. You are_ not_ my Intended."

The clone's brows drew together in a frown, then he forced a smile, staying silent. "Sweetness," Asta heard Loki's voice purring in her head. "Can you feel me? Do you know your Intended?"

She smiled, "Of course! Good morning, my dear Prince."

"How is that sweet, pink bottom of yours?" Asta could hear the sly smile in his words and she blushed. "Darling, I am here. But my clone must do what I cannot. You must accept him as me. Just for this morning." The man in front of her smile ironically, looking her over in that thorough way her Intended had. "How could you tell my clone from me?" Loki asked curiously, still inside her head.

Asta looked thoughtfully at the dark prince in front of her, still performing that visual exploration of her body. He_ was_ perfect in every way as Loki, she knew. By touch, by smell, his voice... she shrugged, "I cannot explain, my Lord. But I know he is not the man I chose at my birth."

"Fascinating," he mused. "We must speak of it later. But now, darling, I need you to accept him as an extension of me. His hands are mine, I feel the touch of you, I feel your kiss. I act in all ways through him. Do you understand?"

Still clutching the pillow to her chest, the girl shifted uneasily. "What would you have me do?"

The Loki in front of her smiled darkly, gently pulling her feeble defense away from her. The Loki inside her mind whispered with all manner of filthy promise. "I would have you lay back. I promised to teach you how to give yourself pleasure, remember? You will be able to reach your peak on your own hand, you'll be soft and ready for me tonight."

She realized that Loki's clone has pushed her back onto her pillows and was placing slow, sucking kisses along her neck as Asta was concentrating on her Intended's voice. "He is not you..." Asta frowned.

"Listen to my voice," Loki soothed, "he will feel the same, I assure you."

Loki lay back on his own bed, a huge, magnificent affair draped in dark green silks. His hand slid down, casually opening the leather lacings his pants as he concentrated on his bride and his clone. It was an interesting sensation, feeling everything through his clone, but also through his joined thoughts with Asta. She stayed where he'd placed her on her back, but his shy bride was still stiff and anxious. "You're so beautiful, my angel. The night we came together-there has been nothing like it," Loki groaned. "Feeling all your sweet pulses, the taste of you-" His hand slipped down to his cock, idly stroking it as he ran the clone's hands down Asta. He realized she stayed acquiescent if the girl heard his voice, and he continued. "I want you to feel how beautiful you are, little girl." Clone Loki took Asta's hands and placed them on her breasts, stroking and playing with them as the real prince groaned in pleasure, his hand moving faster on his rapidly growing length. He grinned to see his bride's eyes flutter shut, her dark lashes fanning over her cheekbones. "Down your smooth skin- so warm! Your lovely legs, spread them, darling..." He could see her bite her lower lip, looking a little doubtful as his clone moved between them, sliding down level to her pelvis. Asta_ was_ hot- he could feel the warmth from her thighs radiate off his cool cheeks, feel her pulse hike through her femoral artery as he ran the tip of his chilled tongue down the inside of her leg.

"M- my Lord?" Loki snapped to attention as he heard her anxious inquiry, his clone bringing her hands down to her center with his.

"I'm right here," he soothed, "I want you to put your fingers on your sweet lips. Can you feel them, swelling with blood? So sensitive to the touch?" Asta's back arched suddenly as his clone paired her fingers with his, sliding them along her pussy, occasionally dipping down to pull more slick from her channel. "Mmmmm... the feel of you!" Loki's voice was deepening, sounding thicker somehow, darker. He watched with amusement as she shivered in return. "Let me taste you, sweetling. Come now, I'll show you how good this can feel. You're going to be so ready for tonight, so warm..." The girl froze for a minute as his clone ran his chilly tongue along her slit, dipping inside her, then tickling its way up to her clit, then back again. The taste exploded in Loki's mind, somehow magnified by his Doppelganger and the reaction from his bride, hearing the disjointed thoughts of pleasure race around her brain.

"Is such a thing allowed?" Asta moaned blissfully.

Loki burst into laughter, gripping his cock tightly for a moment. "Darling, all things are allowed between a husband and his wife. Your beautiful quim tastes sweet- I knew it. All that delicate, fluttering tissue inside you. I can hardly wait to rub against the walls of your pussy, fill you up..." He heard and felt her moan mix with his. 'My little angel likes dirty talk?' he thought, pleased. "Now, darling girl. I want you to put two fingers from your right hand against mine, we're going inside you." When her hand pulled back nervously, he soothed her. "We've done this before, my Pet. Shhhh, now. Just two..." Loki's hand was moving faster on his dick, the shaft almost purple in its need for release. "I'm going to be in there tonight, but right now, just slide your sweet little fingers with mine, in and out. In..." The Dark Prince grinned again as he heard her gasp. "...and out. So good. Such a good girl. Now, take your fingers from your other hand and tap your bud." He watched his clone move her fingers over her clitoris, adding moisture so she could stroke herself. "This little treasure holds the key to your pleasure, sweetheart. You can play with it whenever you like to feel good." Precome started leaking from the tip of Loki's cock, watching her pale fingers tease her little clitoris from its hood and gently tap it. "Such a good girl," he moaned. "Rub it gently, how does that feel?"

She was more gentle than he would be, her soft fingers playing with her little bundle as Loki's clone continued to move her fingers with his inside her. "Oh! It's so..." Asta shuddered pleasurably, "...it's so much, all at once."

Loki's shadow pushed one hand down his pants, stroking himself at the same speed as the true Prince on his bed, groaning as he realized how close he-they- were to coming. He was determined that his bride would come with them. "Look at you," he hissed, his voice never more dark and sensual, "my beautiful, dirty little girl. You're exquisite with your long legs so lewdly spread, my fingers driving inside your grasping little quim. I can feel the inside of you quake, little girl."

She was flushed red with embarrassment at her Intended's filthy words, but Asta was shocked to see they were driving her rapidly toward her finish.

"Spread those legs wider, my precious slut, I want to see your dirty little quim as we come together." Loki's clone dipped his head again, teeth gently nibbling and sucking the opening where their fingers were shoving in and out. Groaning, the dark prince managed to growl at her. "Repeat this, darling. Say, 'Daddy, may I come?' Do it now if you wish to finish."

To his amusement, his shy bride didn't hesitate. "Oh!, Oh..." Asta swallowed, trying to concentrate. "Daddy, please... may I come? Mmmmm... please?"

As his seed shot out from his cock, hitting his flat belly and chest, Loki hissed, "You may, Asta darling."

Perhaps it was hearing her name on his lips again, or the sheer filthiness of the moment of the driving tongue of Loki's Doppelganger against her pussy, but Asta let out a scream, arching her back, fingers and legs shaking violently. The feel of her orgasm along with his own and his clone's made Loki howl along with her, all three sensations of sparking hot pleasure crashing down on him, then helplessly transmitting back to the girl, who shrieked and went into another orgasm. He started laughing breathlessly, her second finish cycling through Loki again.

When she opened her eyes and managed to focus again, Asta found herself being held in the long arms of her Intended's shadow, soothingly stroking her arms and hair, laying kisses on her flushed cheeks. "Are you all right, my good, _good_ little girl?" Her lips curved, hearing her Intended's deep and satisfied tone in her head.

"I think so," she whispered, her voice hurt from screaming. Asta flushed red. She screamed! Like- like some strumpet!

"Ah, ah!" Loki's voice sounded warningly, "You are my bride and meant to draw pleasure from me." The girl could almost _hear_ the filthy grin she knew her Intended wore from his tone. "And I shall make you scream over and over. Until there's not enough breath left to do anything but moan. By the Nornir, there is nothing more delicious and perfect than feeling you come." The clone leaned over to kiss her lips. "I can barely wait to be inside you tonight," Loki whispered into her ear. He directed his Doppelganger to fetch a cloth and clean her gently, helping Asta don a dressing gown and kissing her again before disappearing. As if on cue, a knock sounded on her door and her maids came bustling in, giggling with excitement for the day.


	12. You Feel Like fire

In which there is consummation. Like, FINALLY.

Chapter Text

"You feel so warm," her maid said, laying her hand over Asta's flaming cheek. "Do you have a fever, my Lady?"

Asta shrugged carefully, trying not to disturb the hair stylist. "I feel fine."

"Hmmm," the stylist fussed, "your forehead feels like you're on fire, but you're not perspiring..."

Asta smiled reassuringly, "I'm sure I'm fine. How much more preparation?"

Her team looked at each other and laughed as the girl's heart sank. The dress hung on a golden stand behind her- it was utterly exquisite, but the amount of effort the girls were putting into making her ready was driving Asta mad. The day stretched on, they could hear the din and a dulled roar of guests arriving, packing the palace to capacity. Servants were racing through the gardens, pulling last-minute flowers for arrangements, musicians tuning their instruments. And still, Asta sat in her silk undergarments, waiting for the women to be done with her.

"Darling..." The sibilant whisper echoed through her head like the brush of a hand on her cheek.

"My Prince?" Asta's silent response was eager.

"Allow me to guess your position," Loki's voice was amused, still low and meaningful, making goosebumps sprout on her neck. "You are seated in front of that ridiculously gigantic mirror, those women fluttering around you like deranged bees?"

A spurt of laughter came from Asta's lips before she could stop herself. The hands pulling at her paused, and the girl sheepishly shook her head. "I am sorry, ladies. I was thinking of something amusing."

Loki's voice was stronger. "You need not apologize to them, Pet. You _should_ be apologizing to me, your Intended."

Her fair brow drew together in confusion. "Have I offended you, my Prince?"

"Terribly." His tone was stern, but she still sensed the grin underneath. "Forcing me to suffer from a painfully engorged cock with no relief from my bride. Very cruel."

Asta's amber eyes widened as her cheeks flushed red. "My Lord!"

His voice was pure sin now, slinking over her nerve endings and sliding like silk through her head. "What offends you, my precious girl? That I spoke of my cock? Of how hard it is for you? How it throbs and-"

A small, helpless noise squeaked from Asta, desperate to keep her composure in front of all these women. "Please, my Intended," she moaned. "I cannot do-"

"Mmmmmm..." His throaty moan mocked her, Asta sensing he was leaning back and getting comfortable. "But I have so much to tell you, darling. How sweet you tasted this morning. How irresistibly wanton you were, those long legs spread and begging for my-"

Now Asta felt like she was on fire, cheeks flushed, hands shaking with the effort to keep still.

"My Lady, will you stand? We are ready to fit you into your gown." Martha the dressmaker smiled at her brightly, not seeing the desperation Asta was trying to hide.

"The dress?" Now Loki sounded interested. "Do stand, darling. I want to see how they lace you into it so that I might take you back out of it this evening. Slowly. Kissing your breasts. Sucking your nipples and-"

Gritting her teeth, Asta shoved all her arousal, heat and desperation back at her diabolical torturer, flooding him with the image of them wound so tightly around each other that there was no beginning, no end like his symbol- but with his cock so far inside her that it felt coated with lava, like the sun, the heat so intense-

"Fuck! You wicked, delectable little bitch!" The dark prince fell back with a howl, his thick shaft spurting wildly over his sheets and chest. He caught a quick image of a little, saucy smile before the connection between them slammed shut. Panting as he absently wiped his chest with the soiled sheet, Loki smiled savagely. "Oh, little girl..." he hissed. "You are going to_ pay_ for that." Laughter bellowing from his broad chest, the Prince of Asgard headed to his bathing chamber to ready himself for his wedding.

Asta was sipping gratefully at a goblet of watered-down wine when the Queen entered the dressing room. "Ah, child." Frigga's eyes filled with tears. "You are the most beautiful bride in all the Nine Realms. I am so happy you were meant for my son."

Flushing with pleasure, Asta chuckled. "I believe your praise belongs to these women, my Lady. They've worked on me all day. Dressing me was quite the task."

Frigga laughed, waving off the protests of Martha and the stylists. "I thank you for your fine work with my lovely daughter in law," she said gravely. "Will you all give us a moment?"

Finally, alone, the two women smiled at each other. Asta swayed slightly, happy for the quiet but already exhausted. "Here," urged the Queen, "sit and rest."

"I dare not," sighed Asta. "I could not bear the expression on Martha's face if she found a wrinkle." Frigga waved her hand and the bride suddenly felt a stool supporting her bottom. "Ahhh," she gasped in relief.

Frigga laughed again, taking the wine from her and handing Asta a different drink. "This will help, my dear. My wedding gown weighed two stone- I wasn't sure I could walk all the way to my groom during the ceremony. We can't have you fainting midway."

She _did_ feel better, Asta realized, sipping the warm drink tasting of goat's milk and cinnamon. "I promise, my Queen, I am made of stronger material than I might look. I will not disappoint you."

Carefully putting a black curl back in place, Frigga smiled at her fondly. "How could you possibly disenchant me? You chose my son."

"You aren't displeased, like the Allfather?" Asta tried to keep the bitter tone from her question, but Loki's feelings poured through her at the memory.

A serene smile crossed Frigga's generous lips. "A mother is not meant to have a favorite child. But you will find when you have babies of your own- the one who needs you most holds more of your heart."

"And Loki did need you," Asta mused. "You were one of the few who loved him for who he truly was."

Her mother in law rose. "And now my son has a wife who will love him. For the light and the dark of him."

A joyful smile lit Asta's face. "Always."

Frigga's head turned, hearing the dressmaker's team fussing outside. "It's nearly time, my dear."

"Wait!" Asta's voice was louder than she intended, flushing as the Queen looked back. "I- I want-" she gathered her thoughts, "I _need_ to support Loki. Can you please tell me why he thinks he is a monster? He's... he's perfect." she finished lamely.

The blue eyes that turned to her were terribly sad. "That, my dear, is for you and Loki to discuss." With a squeeze to her hand, the Queen was gone and the women raced through the doors, fussing over Asta again.

"Jötunn blue..." was her last thought as the Progeny was led down the hall to her wedding.

If Asta thought the crowd that greedily witnessed her Birth was overwhelming, she was astonished by the sheer mass of those prepared to see her marriage to the second son of Asgard. Thor stood just outside the doors of the Great Hall, a warm smile on his bearded face. "Are you ready, sister?"

She shook her head, dazed by the sheer volume of the crowd. "I- I suppose? Is this to be expected, brother?"

Thor laughed, relieved to find humor in spite of the strange tension within himself. "It is the first royal marriage I have attended here in Asgard," he teased, "but I suspect everyone in the Nine Realms would be here if allowed."

Shrugging her shoulders, Asta smiled. "Thank you for walking me. I am grateful for your strong arm." The music swelled, and they recognized the wedding march. Taking a deep breath together, the two suddenly laughed.

"Here we go," Thor encouraged, and the walk began.

Loki was perfectly still, the very picture of serenity and confidence until he spotted his bride. It was at the first moment the crowd did, and a hush swept over them all. Asta made them speechless. The Prince's green eyes traveled over the radiant creature walking towards him with a blush and a glow of adoration. Her gown was the palest green- shot with diamonds and a sheer overskirt that trailed behind her for several feet. The newly black curls were swept into an elegant updo held in place with diamond and emerald clips. Asta wore minimal makeup, more would have simply distracted from her beauty, but her pale amber eyes were glittering with tears, her cheeks blooming with a flush of happiness. Though the bride managed to not shed a tear, most of the audience did. It was just too perfect: the Dark Prince in his green and silver armor, with a look of almost unrecognizable pleasure on his stern features, and the angelic image walking to him with nothing but sheer joy on her beautiful face. Fandral leaned close. "If I ever saw such a vision looking at me with this expression, I would gladly marry. Congratulations, brother." While it had been a long time since one of the Warriors Three called Loki thus, he felt Fandral's sincerity and nodded in appreciation. Then, his bride was there, smiling up into his eyes with nothing but the simple happiness of finding him standing in front of her, and Loki's frozen heart began to thaw. Just a corner, perhaps. But a little.

The ceremony was long, as expected. Loki and Asta bowed, knelt, recited and held each other as instructed. But the two stole glances at each other with blushes on her face and a knowing grin upon his. In all, the dark prince mused, it was all highly effective as foreplay. When Odin finally uttered the final vows in his ponderous way, the couple gratefully repeated them, and then kissed to the cheers and sighs from the hundreds of thousands of souls to witness their joy.

Fortunately for the two, while Asgard weddings were a lavish, multi-day affair, for the rest of the evening they were simply required to smile, drink, eat and nod at each increasingly outrageous toast. By the time Volstagg tried to compare their consummation to the rut of a stag and his doe, Loki had taken his bride's hand and drawn her away silently.

Asta gasped happily as her new husband slammed her into the huge marble pillar before them, shoving his mouth against hers without his usual finesse. "Forgive me, lover," Loki groaned, "I find I am not able to contain my need for you."

Daringly sinking her hand to his leather covered crotch, she moaned back "Nor I for you, my beloved. May- may I play with you a little? You've done so to me, and I would like to try-"

"By the Nornir," he groaned, "please do not speak again until I have you in my bed. You un-man me."

Instantly, Asta found herself straddling Loki on his huge bed, her slim hand still clasped to his swelling cock. "Mmmm..." she moaned happily, "alone with you at last? Thank you, husband!" She found herself staring into the tempting emerald of his eyes as Loki grinned at her meaningfully.

Swiftly sweeping her under him, Loki rasped, "Not as grateful as you _will_ be, my darling." While not particularly interested in virgins because of their lack of experience to please him, the prince was very much looking forward to that night. His Asta was such a treasure, he mused, gently stroking his tongue over hers. Pulling her upright, Loki licked the back of her neck as he rapidly undid the elaborate buttons and lacings of her wedding dress. "I've been waiting," he groaned, "from the moment they put this thing on you to take it off again."

Soon, he had his bride down to her silks, and the cool air seemed to shock Asta back to reality. Before her was this god- _her_ God who wanted to worship _her_. "Loki," she barely breathed, hands sliding to hold his stubbled cheeks as she kissed him. "You are so beautiful..." And he was: her new husband was a dark vision of perfection, still in his leather and armor, long, thick black hair and the cool of him pressed against her fevered body.

"You feel like fire," he groaned, "are you well? You're so hot."

Breathlessly laughing, she nodded against his mouth. "I'm perfectly well, husband. I'm just burning a few degrees above normal, I guess." As Loki pulled back to look at her, his bride desperately pulled his hair to bring his mouth down to hers. "Please cool me, my Intended," she moaned.

Kneeling above her, Loki tried to breathe- to focus on the good fortune underneath him. This perfect, exquisite creature chose _him_. Chose the second-born of Odin over his older brother. Asta chose him with utter certainty and unwavering devotion from the day she stood in front of him. Now, her pale amber eyes were shining like stars into his, smiling shyly as her arms rose to his broad shoulders. Trying to gather his composure, Loki grinned darkly down to her. "Do you remember what I asked you to do, darling?"

He watched as another flush of pink swept across her face. "About tonight, my husband?"

Loki leaned closer, enjoying the look of arousal and timidity in her expression. "Yes, my bride," he soothed. "Did you remember how to prepare yourself, as I taught you this morning?"

Asta coughed softly, then seemed to gather her courage. "You wished for me to- to pleasure myself, my beloved. To be, um, soft and wet for you tonight?"

"And are you, darling?" the Dark Prince leaned over her greedily, ready to plunder no matter what her answer. To his shock, Asta bit her full lower lip, and then shyly took his fingers and pressed them to her pussy. As instructed, his bride was relaxed and warm- it was clear she'd brought herself to orgasm before walking down the aisle to him. "Ah!" Loki gasped, "So sleek, I can feel you running over my fingers." She felt like wet silk under his fingers, a slick path swelling between Asta's channel and her clitoris. Instantly latching on to a pink nipple, Loki was distracted by her pained gasp. "What?" he frowned, leaning over her.

"Your armor," she pleaded, "could you remove it? I would like to feel your skin against me." Mildly irritated that he'd not thought of such an obvious thing, Loki growled and swept his hand down his muscled body, making his heavy ornamental gear and clothing disappear. Asta sighed with relief. "Thank you, my husband," she soothed as she began to press her full lips against his again. Pressing his thin lips against her cushiony ones felt decadent, just as Loki preferred it. Running one battle-hardened hand against her, his other held her face still, kissing her over and over, tongues sweeping and curling against each other.

Rolling deliberately on top of Asta's slight form, Loki moved to make her feel his weight. "Are you afraid, my wife?" he asked.

Her amber eyes stared into his. "Yes," she finally admitted.

"But why?" Loki was still kissing down one smooth cheek.

"I- um, I don't want to disappoint you, my King," Asta whispered. "I know you said it didn't matter that I was a virgin. But you are used to women with so much more experience, and I don't-"

Loki's grin was vulpine. "You could never disappoint me, my wife." He soothed, continuing his path of kisses. "You're juicy." Kiss. "Delicious." Kiss. "Innocent." Kiss. "Filthy." Kiss. His exquisite bride was moaning loudly now, trying to hold his sleek black hair wound in her hands. Moving his mouth to her ear, he whispered, "I'm going to stick my tongue in your hot cunt now, darling." The prince grinned as he felt her shudder helplessly. "But you are not allowed to come-" He brushed aside her moan of protest. "-not until I tell you to, my dirty little girl. Do you understand?" Feeling rather than hearing her moan of assent, Loki drifted lower, tracing his chilly lips and tongue against her heated curves. When he'd reached the center of her, the Prince looked up at her heaving breasts. The candlelight in his bedchamber glowed against her satin skin, making his mouth water. He couldn't remember a time he'd been so desperate to have his mouth and hands on a lover- they'd just always been there to attend to his pleasure. Savagely pressing his freezing mouth against her cunt in a full-mouth kiss, Loki grunted to feel the volcanic warmth of her shove back against him. Even with just circling her cunt with two fingers, his lips and tongue brought his gentle bride to the edge of a climax in moments. Feeling her hands desperately clutching his back, Loki spoke against her quim. "You may come." He grinned at the sheer relief in Asta's moans as she fell over the edge. "Poor baby," Loki soothed, "is it so uncomfortable? That tender kitty, your swollen lips? Do you want me to remove that pesky virginity once and for all?"

Asta's hands clenched against the inky locks of her new husband again, helplessly holding his face against her. "Yes!" She panted, "yes, please! I'll be good, I swear, just please-"

Loki growled, the sound coming from low in his belly as he rolled over his prey again. "Please what, darling? Tell Daddy."

"P- please fuck me, Daddy!" Asta gasped, "please fill me, Daddy! I need you! I- I need your cock and- AH!" She felt Loki's sharp teeth bite into her earlobe as his dick tore into her narrow passage. The pain of the first distracted her from the other, and his bride yelped in an utterly pleasurable way, feeling the width and thrust of him within her. It was intrusive, hurtful, even outrageous. But it felt _so_ good. Her husband fit her in an uncomfortable, piercing way that made Asta's hips buck up against his as she lay under Loki's huge body, still panting.

"Hush, shhhh..." Loki soothed. "Give it a moment. I'll feel so good inside you. Give me a moment to stretch you..." he was trying to sound authoritative, even soothing, but in reality, her new husband was so aroused by the molten clenching around him that it took every ounce of self-control not to wildly buck into Asta and come immediately. "My bride!" he groaned, "I feel like you're burning me alive inside you! It feels so fucking good..." Dropping his cool forehead into her heaving chest, Loki gathered his self-control and remembered who he was buried inside. "Are you all right, sweet Asta?" he whispered, leaning into her ear.

Of all the things she'd imagined, even after the education of Loki's long and elegant fingers inside her, nothing could have prepared Asta for the sheer carnal power of her husband's cock spreading her in the most lascivious way. It _hurt._ _So_ much more than she'd expected. But some shivery, shameful, filthy part of Asta loved Loki's power over her- something so big as to immobilize her within a single thrust. Even holding still against the huge, cool thing lodged inside her, his bride couldn't help the small smile of satisfaction. _This_ was what the others felt. This thing so big and so hurtful. But even so, it was inside her now, Loki's cock- _all_ of him belonged to her now. And she would _never_ give him back.

As if he'd heard her, Asta's dark Intended gave a chuckle in her ear. "I'm going to move now, darling. I'm going to make you feel so good. Do you trust me?"

His bride's eyes immediately swept to Loki's emerald ones. "Of course," she said with absolute surety. "With my life,"

Suddenly moved, Loki's long hand trailed down her cheek. "Then let me love you, my bride." And with that, he slowly pulled his swollen cock out, then thrust within her, _hard_, giving no quarter for her virginity or raw exposure to his girth. Ignoring her pained groan even before Asta stifled it, he grinned and continued to piston inside the torrid heat of her pussy, luxuriating in the unfeasible comfort against his frigid dick. Hearing another pained whimper pass her lips before Asta bit down on it, Loki rose up threateningly against her. "Does it hurt, my precious angel?" he soothed.

Another vicious thrust followed, and then a yelp from the girl trembling underneath him. "A- um, a little, my husband." Asta's admission was small, shamed as if the sting and spread of his cock should be more easily borne. "Ah!"

"Good..." he purred against his bride's heaving chest. "It should." Loki grinned to hear her gasp again at another hard thrust, moving her legs up higher against his hip. "Do you know why it pains you, my love?"

Asta pressed her full lips together. Her husband was_ wickedness,_ Hel in male form and ready to drag her to the pits of suffering for not taking him more smoothly. "Not so," disagreed Loki, smiling at her gasp of humiliation as she realized he'd read her mind. "Hel is my daughter." He bit her sharply again, this time on her shoulder to stifle any questions. "But back to your delectable kitty. It's supposed to hurt- especially the first time. To show you who you belong to. And who_ do_ you belong to, my lovely little Asta?"

Tears were dripping delicately from her thick lashes now, his bride's face turned from his, trying to hide her tears from Loki. "You, my husband," Asta moaned helplessly, "You! I am for you!" Something about her pained admission and the vicious satisfaction of taking something from both Odin and Thor was too much. His pale hips pistoned into hers, feeling the pleasure of her helpless pulses into his rigid cock as Loki heard her scream against him. Raising up, he slapped sharply against his bride's slim ass.

"Who?" he panted, "Do you belong to?"

"You!"

Loki dipped his head, silky locks sweeping her collarbone. Whispering in the darkest, coldest part of him against her tender mouth, he said: "Who do you belong to, my dirty, precious, perfect little virgin cunt?" When Asta hesitated, he shoved up into her hard, his balls slapping in a shocking rhythm against her spread thighs.

"You!" His bride's back bowed into a painful arch, almost sobbing in her desperation to plead her case. "My King! Only to you! Only to you, my King! Ohhh..." It was too much. Hearing Asta's utter and perfect submission sent Loki into a brutal orgasm. It sent him rigid against her cervix, flooding her womb with an icy push that sent his bride into another orgasm as Loki groaned against the pleasurable agony of the clinch against his thick cock. Feeling her shudder and weep against him, the second son of Odin attempted to withdraw from her perfection. He'd _hurt_ the Angel. _Soiled_ her. "No, please, Loki, please stay..." Asta's slim arms held his shoulders to her breast, sighing in relief. "Thank you," she moaned. "I feel so good- the Sisters told me it would hurt and I may not like it but it was _wonderful_ please stay..."

Loki's head dropped to his bride's pale breasts, his long, inky locks spreading across the perfection of her skin. "Shhh..." he soothed. "It can feel even better, darling. Let me show you..."

And he did. For hours. Until the new Princess of Asgard was screaming yet another release in a line of many and begging for Loki's mercy in a voice so sore and cracked it was a miracle that Thor heard it, crouching outside the newlywed's chamber, bitterly drinking from a bottle of ale and wondering why his brother was so fortunate in what truly mattered.


	13. What Just Happened?

In which we witness the morning after. And presents. Lots and lots of presents.

Chapter Text

Waking the next morning, Asta found herself buried half under the formidable body of her husband. Feeling a cool mist over one hip, she sleepily asked, "What are you doing, my beautiful husband?"

Her body jolted as Loki shook with laughter. "Sweet the very moment she awakes... good morning little one. I'm helping your battered, precious body along with its healing."

"Battered? But I feel- ah!" Asta groaned as she realized sitting up would take a moment. His laugh that buffeted her sore form this time was deeper, with an edge of savage satisfaction that reminded her of her wedding night. "I see," she agreed. She sighed in relief as Loki's healing spell flowed over the other hip, both feeling like they'd been dislocated by the size and depth of his thrusts last night. Looking down, Asta was shocked to see her breasts, neck, and shoulders littered with black and purple blooms- love bites from her new husband. His emerald eyes met hers with a knowing wink as Loki passed his hand- still glowing green- over the worst of the marks. "I cannot help but notice, my husband, that you have only healed the marks that would show over a dress," she noted with a smile.

Loki was suddenly over her again, caging her in with those long arms and legs. He might seem slim compared to the overdone bulk of Thor, but there was no question the Dark Prince was heavily muscled. One of her hands rose absently to caress a bicep as those green eyes stared down at her. Her husband leaned closer, and Asta closed her eyes, waiting for his kiss. Instead, he caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger. "Open your eyes," Loki commanded. When his wife obeyed, he stared searchingly into them. "Your eyes have changed," he finally said, absently running his thumb up and down her soft cheek.

"Changed?" Asta tried to sit up, "changed how my Lord?"

He chuckled again, putting one large palm between her breasts to stop her. "Darling, I've fucked the living daylights out of you. You're wearing my wedding ring. I believe you're allowed to call me by my given name."

His bride flushed painfully, looking down. "You don't call me by mine."

Loki arched one elegant brow. The girl had a point. "Asta," he drew out in his most devastating and sensuous voice, "here's a mirror." With a flick of his fingers, the dark prince spelled an elaborate silver hand mirror and gave it to his wife.

"Thank you, Loki-" Asta gasped as she looked in the mirror. She was fine with the physical and elemental changes she found her body made in relation to her Intended. But her pale amber eyes had always been the window to her soul, the thing that stamped her as Asta. But the irides staring back from her reflection was very different. They'd changed to a dark amber/gold, the shade of a hardened sphere that might contain DNA from millions of years ago, life stubbornly preserved in amber stone. The shade with thrown into deeper contrast by surrounding rings of charcoal grey.

"Beautiful..." Loki marveled, turned her face this way and that. "Like a reverse eclipse." Kissing her hand and then Asta's lips, he murmured, "And here I thought it impossible for you to become more beautiful than you already were." Rising from the bed and still naked, he sauntered towards the bathing chamber. "I'm going to draw us a bath, come along, my darling Asta."

His wife smiled and nodded, but looked back to the mirror as she heard the water running. Of all the changes, why did this one bother her? There was something inescapable about the color, Asta thought as if what she was now was set in stone forever, just like the gold colored gems holding genetic secrets from eons of forgotten worlds.

Loki was lounging indolently in his stone tub, deep enough for even someone as tall as the Prince to sink under the water, wide enough that two of him could stretch lengthwise. His bride stopped for a moment in the door to stare at him. Eyes closed, his thick black lashes rested on sharp cheekbones, wet hair slicked back to show the fine-boned face and lips that could torment and then make her pleasurably scream. "You're staring, little girl. Terribly rude." His amused voice jolted her out of her reverie and Asta saw that his eyes were still closed.

"How could you tell," she teased, "eyes closed and half asleep as you are?"

The full and terrifying force of his attention was on her now, and Asta was embarrassed to feel a full-body shudder from the intensity of his glare. "Because darling..." Loki was slinking through the water like a jaguar, eyes intent on her. A huge hand shot out and flicked at her, drawing Asta into the water with a splash. His arms circled her from behind, and his bride shuddered again. Being held like this within his long arms made her feel completely enclosed. Licking a strip up her neck, the prince continued. "Because, darling Asta, I can _smell_ you. You come alive in my mind's eye like a heat signature."

If the Progeny was expecting her new husband to ravish her, she was disappointed. Loki performed aftercare, gently soothing a soft sponge over the worst of her bruises and using his roughened fingers to stroke through her pussy to clean her there. Asta tried to close her eyes, but a sharp order stopped her. "Don't! Keep them open. I want to see your beautiful change, this reverse eclipse. You will keep your eyes on mine. Do you understand, little girl?"

Biting her lip, she replied "Yes... Daddy?" Rewarded by his shark-like grin and pleased purr, Asta relaxed as best she could into the swirling greens of Loki's stare. The water was cooler than she was used to, but with her higher temperature and speeding pulse, his bride sank into it gratefully as he continued to play with all the tender parts of her with his long, clever fingers. Loki pushed her back against the stone side, and Asta could feel her heat leech into the smooth rock. Suddenly shivering, her movement broke the spell and Loki gathered his bride back into his arms. Seating himself, her husband pulled her onto his lap, pushing against the base of her spine to position her.

"Open your legs for Daddy," Loki grinned devilishly. With a third shudder, Asta obeyed him, gasping as she felt the turgid length of him sliding inside her again. Her head dropped back, and he shook her briskly. "Eyes open, little girl."

"It's too much," she moaned, "seeing you- feeling- OH!" Her dark husband harshly shoved his cock in harder at her protests.

"You will take what I give you, my beautiful wife," Loki spoke evenly, but his harder thrusts were all the threat he needed. "And you will thank me for it." His large hands moved down to grasp her ass, squeezing tightly and smiling slightly as Asta yelped. She obediently kept her amber eyes on his, even though her body was dying to droop over his harder one, passively allowing him to do what he liked with her. The kaleidoscope of his emerald scrutiny was unnerving, there was cruelty there, the pleasure of forcing her freshly-broken channel to take him again. There was care, as his rough palms slid from her ass, stroking up her hips and back. But something flickered that his bride didn't understand. It felt like love...but then that retreated and all she felt was fear. As Loki's thumb slipped to her button of nerves and massaged her, Asta was literally forced over the cliff and into an orgasm so strong that he braced his feet on the bottom and pulled her back down on his cock as her pussy started spasming hard enough to nearly push him out. Her husband's large hands went to her shoulders, and Loki used the leverage to shove her up and down until he came too, teeth gritted against the rush of heat from his bride's molten orgasm.

Carrying her out of the tub and drying Asta with a soft towel, Loki placed his long fingers over her pelvis again. He felt, rather than heard her moan helplessly, conflicted between how good it felt and how painfully torn her pussy still felt from last night's deflowering. "Shhh," he soothed, "I'm just healing you. You won't be able to sit on that bruised kitty and we have a long day ahead of us."

Sadly, her new husband was not exaggerating. The second day was the Procession of the Gifts- a chance for every Realm to show they offered richer and finer tributes than the others. The practical Light Elf was appalled at the profusion of wealth. The Ljósálfar found nature more beautiful than ostentatious gems and gold. Anaheim's natural beauty bedazzled visitors in a way that the growing pile of jewelry, statues, artwork, elaborate tapestries and more ever could. But Asta sat side by side with her prince, praising each offering with sincerity, smiling and thanking the guests. Finally feeling a squeeze to her hand, she leaned closer to hear Loki whisper, "Only two more Realms, little one. You're doing beautifully."

The next guests were the Ljósálfar royalty, back to celebrate the marriage of their own to the second born of Odin. Asta smiled with true joy as she clasped hands with her King and Queen. "Lovely girl," praised the Queen, "we could not be more proud. Here is your gift." Loki's brow furrowed as he watched his bride gasp and gratefully accept something slim and green.

"Is that a twig?" he queried. The three Light Elves looked to him.

"It is, my husband, and it is not." Asta stroked the little branch gently, smiling at it.

The Queen leaned closer so no one could hear them. "Asta will explain when you are alone. It is not something all should hear."

Loki politely nodded, but his brow stayed creased.

"And for you, Prince Loki," the Elf King continued, "one of the finest sons of our legendary Bevinget Hest." An excited buzz grew through the crowd as a coal black horse stepped up as if knowing they were discussing him. He was magnificent- his coat as black as pitch, but glistening with hues of blues and gold as the light slid along his sleek coat. His warm brown eyes gravely regarded them both before leaning in, shoving his head against Loki's. Another buzz and then applause in the audience from those educated enough to know of the Bevinget Hest, the first animal named as a god for his fierceness in battle, ability to communicate with his rider and miraculously, to fly. Loki felt the animal's warm thoughts edging around his mind, seeking a connection. To his own surprise, Loki gladly gave it, and the Prince and horse stood for a moment. He saw that Asta's eyes were glittering with happy tears for him.

"You are beautiful, aren't you?" he murmured to the horse, stoking one broad hand over the shining mane. "What a pair we will be, eh, my friend?" Loki turned to the royal couple and bowed deeply. "This is an honor beyond reckoning, your Grace. I cannot begin to express my gratitude." Raising up, he was startled to see a look of keen concern in the eyes of the Alfheim King.

The look vanished quickly, and the Light Elf smiled. "I am pleased to see we were correct. Fryktløs was meant for you." The beautiful horse was led away to be made comfortable in the royal stables, and Loki smiled to see a look of dumbfounded envy on Thor's face, and something that approximated shock on Odin's.

The huge crowd suddenly began moving restlessly, whispers rising through the Great Hall. "The Jötunn! I never thought to meet one!" Asta watched raptly as a contingent of huge, blue men made their way to the dais where Loki and his bride sat. Save for the Demon King Surtur and his hellish tribe of monsters, Asta knew no one was feared more than the Frost Giants. The battle to stop their rebellion was bloody and nearly broke Odin's mighty army, but the Jötunn were sent back to their dark and frozen rock in defeat. They had not left it since those many centuries before.

"Prince," growled one, almost making it sound like an insult. His red eyes glanced to the rest of the royal family. "Odin. It's been so long."

The Allfather made the faintest nod of acknowledgment. "Laufey. Your _peaceful_ appearance is welcome here." No one could miss the emphasis on the word "peaceful," but the Jötunn King smiled thinly.

His glowing crimson eyes returned to the wedded couple. "Young ones. Jotunheim gifts you with the Is Sverd- the sword is unbreakable in battle." His thin smile returned. "It can only be wielded by one who can bear it's arctic temperature, of course." From the corner of her eye, Asta saw Odin lean forward angrily, and to her left, her suddenly stiff and silent husband was unreadable. Amber gaze darting between the still form of her Prince and the greedy stare of the Jötunn King, the Progeny suddenly leaned forward, blocking Loki subtly from the Frost Giant before them.

"Your Grace," she answered clearly, rising from her chair. "You honor us beyond comprehension. Thank you, truly, your Highness." Her pale hands reached and took the glimmering blue sword from him. As their hands briefly touched, Asta stiffened painfully. There was a maddened desire to _know_. At last to _finally know_ if- Pulling her hands and the weapon away with a shaky jerk, she barely felt the glacial power of the Is Sverd battling with her superheated cell signature. Swirls of frostbite crept up her wrists, only to be thawed instantly. The buzz from the huge crowd rose to a clamor at the sight. Shocked, Laufey stared at her, his blue countenance barely showing it.

"Princess," he drew out in a hiss, then bowed and took his leave after a final glance at Loki's furiously white face.

Asta sat down abruptly, trying not to sag in relief that the bizarre exchange was over. Placing a timid hand on Loki's arm, she whispered, "Are you well, husband?" When he turned to her, it was all his bride could do to not recoil from him. His blazing eyes were the polar blue of a frozen sea, mouth tightened into a vicious line. Odin broke the staring contest between the two with a slam of his staff against the granite floor, nearly cracking the impervious stone with the force of it.

"Thank you all," the Allfather intoned. "We will see you at the banquet tonight." Dozens of servants and guard gathered to carefully remove the treasures and riches from in front of the couple. Asta watched as Frigga hastily cast a shielding spell that allowed six guards to lift the ice sword and remove it. Turning again to Loki, she forced herself to meet his numbing stare.

"Go to our chambers," he spoke precisely, his tone utterly frigid. "Stay there until I return. Do you understand?" Amber eyes wide, Asta nodded. "Then do so!" Loki hissed, then making an angry gesture and disappearing from the room, leaving his bride shaken. What just happened?


	14. I've Got Yours And You've Got Mine

In which Asta learns the distractive value of angry sex.

Chapter Text

Back in their rooms, Asta paced back and forth, filled with an unreasoning sense of terror and desperation. Forcing herself to be still and concentrate, Asta realized the emotions were surging from her husband. She bit the end of her thumb in thought, pacing again. "Think!" Asta angrily ordered herself. "Put it all in sequence!"

Starting from the sense of utter desolation, the certainty of being a monster.

The strange element in Loki's blood when she'd bitten his lip.

Odin "not my father!"

Jotunn blue.

The frigid ocean swim in her dream.

Laufey's feral obsession to "_finally_ know..."

The realization slammed up Asta's spinal cord in a shower of sparks just as the doors blew open and Loki strode through. Her husband, Loki Odinson, second born of the Allfather and Queen Frigga was in fact, a Frost Giant. And he _knew_ it.

The royal couple looked at each other, Asta rapidly burying her thoughts under a hundred others. If Loki had chosen not to tell her this secret yet, questioning him when he's angry would be catastrophic. "Well, here you are, my darling wife. You did obey so nicely." He was attempting to pick a fight, she could tell- using his most condescending expression and the slow, patient tone one would use with a child or a fool.

Amber-gold eyes narrowing, Asta nodded in false deference. "As ordered."

She felt his satisfaction as her husband stalked towards her. "Oh, you sound so displeased, Pet. So put upon."

Suddenly, Asta's head tilted, eyes gazing at him speculatively. A feeling utterly alien came over her, and it wasn't from the taunting, intimidating man in front of her. It was _irritation._ Indignation. He planned to take all his fears out on her, did he? She gave a slow, insolent shrug of her shoulders. "No matter, my dearest husband. Next time you choose to disappear in a fit, I shall just think of something better to do with my time. The palace is filled with amusements." Suddenly on her back on the bed with Loki's enraged face inches from hers, Asta refused to show fear.

"Why, Pet." Loki hissed. "Who exactly do you think you're speaking to? You're behaving like a spoiled little girl. So perhaps Daddy needs to address it." A slow, terrifying smile spread over her husband's lips. "I think you require correction." Suddenly, his wife's head shot up and she bit him- hard- on the neck. Hard enough to draw blood. His sheer astonishment allowed Asta the moment to escape his clutches and get across the room.

"It seems, darling Prince, that you intend to take this fit of temper out on _me_," she snarled. Inside her head, the sweet Progeny who'd never spoken a harsh word in the nearly 500 years of her young life was horrified by her utterly brazen behavior. "I do _not_ accept a spanking for _your_ tantrum."

She could feel Loki's alternating emotions of shock and a certain savage pleasure. His dark head lowered so that she saw only his malevolent green eyes under dark brows. As he stalked her, a rebellious Asta used her speed to keep away- until her husband cheated and created three of him to corner her. His hands tightened on her slim upper arms, fingers closing all the way around her like handcuffs. He easily lifted her off the floor, Asta's little slippers dangling. "Oh, darling," Loki purred. "You are going to pay for that." He jolted as his defiant bride suddenly wrapped her arms and legs around him, circling him like an aroused anaconda. Her mouth latched on to his in a long, hard kiss, finishing by catching his lower lip between her teeth and stretching it.

"Anything you damage, I can fix," she cooed spitefully in return. "You're welcome to try."

No matter her bravado and the energy she kept leeching from her enraged spouse, Asta was in no way prepared from the carnal assault from Loki. But as he ripped off her elaborate gown, she angrily tore open his shirt, drawing her nails down his chest and leaving red running furrows. Asta was shoved to a table, the prince flipping her around to push her face down. One hand shot out to grab his long hair, handing on to a fistful as she yanked. He pulled back just enough for her to turn around and use both feet to kick Loki's chest. He barely stepped back, but his bride was off the table. "No, darling," she hissed, chest heaving. "You're not bedding me on the table where you've used all your whores before."

Loki was seething. There was no way she could know he'd fucked Sif on that table the night she chose him as her Intended. Could the spiteful bitch have told Asta? His instincts told him, no, and Loki warred between his almost paralyzing rage and a sudden and deeply uncomfortable arousal. Loki's cock was painfully hard. No matter what else happened this evening, he was going as deep inside this arrogant bride of his that he could fit. And the Dark Prince could send that generous dick of his very far indeed. "I do think it's time to fuck you, little girl. And I will pound into that juicy little body any. Where. I. Like." He was stalking her again like a jaguar.

Shockingly, her sweet pink mouth opened with a taunting laugh. "Of course, darling. I'm sure you can explain all your bruises and cuts to your parents and guests."

With a furious growl, Loki was on her again, this time throwing her over a long sofa and on to the cushions. Yanking her knees up and apart, he ripped Asta's silks off her and pulled his cock, already red and very hard from his leather trousers. Pulling on it with one fist, her husband used the other to hold her still by his grip around her long throat. "Very well, precious girl. And you can explain why you can't walk because your husband fucked you so hard you can no longer close your legs." Asta stared into his eyes and laughed, actually had the audacity to _laugh_ at her dark and terrifying Prince. With an enraged howl, Loki placed the broad head of his cock at her pussy and leaned forward to watch her pained and frightened reaction. But when he began ruthlessly forcing himself inside her, Loki realized Asta was wet- very wet and the friction was already sliding him through that tight channel. While he was distracted by the pleasurable discovery, his wife was biting him on his other shoulder, drawing blood again like some feral mountain cat. His sweet, innocent bride's heels were digging into his clenching ass, and Loki was already holding back a groan at the slip and slide of his chilly form against her heated one. Asta swirled her hips unexpectedly, and her pussy coiled against him, like the snake-like grip of her arms and legs against him. The superheated warmth of her channel nearly made him come embarrassingly quickly, so Loki gritted his teeth and shoved harder, yanking her hips upwards to meet his thrusting. As the tip of his swollen cock slammed into her cervix and through to the womb, Asta let out a hiss of pain and ran her nails harshly down his heaving back. The bloodletting was beginning to infuriate the spoiled Prince, who'd never had anyone in the castle- aside from his brother and father- treat him with anything but deference and awe. Putting one hand hard against the slim column of her neck, Loki raised above her, a threatening dark shadow. "Stop your scratching, little cat. I can make you bleed far worse than a couple of little nibbles." His mouth captured hers again, this time snatching her full lower lip between his teeth and biting down.

Asta simply couldn't believe that the fierce and vicious creature being fucked by her husband was, in fact, her. The entire encounter was so surreal and completely out of her realm of experience. But she watched herself retaliate by yanking his head back by his hair and kissing him back, smearing the blood from both their sore mouths, tasting the copper-like touch on her tongue and laughing. One hand came back and slapped his face as hard as she could, sending the blood dripping from his mouth flying across the pristine white linens. Growling, Loki seized her endless length of ebony curls and wrapped them around his first in a silky coil. Rising to his knees and yanking her up by his grip on her locks, Loki shoved himself ruthlessly back inside her, one hand pulling her head back and her back into a painful arch. Hissing like a scalded cat, Asta retaliated by reaching down to grip his balls, already drawn tight and ready to explode. The hand in her hair tightened and the furious bride did the same to her dark husband's testicles.

Loki laughed breathlessly, gritting his teeth against the grip that this enraged feline had on his Royal jewels. "A stalemate, my delicious little bitch? I've got yours, you've got mine?"

The arch the prince yanked her into was becoming painful, but Asta was also aware of how excruciatingly good he felt- that cool shaft rubbing hard against the patch of nerves inside her. Loki took great pleasure the night before showing her its location inside her with his fingers and cock. Several times. Gulping in a desperate breath of oxygen, Asta purred, "I'll let go after you do... Daddy."

Loki simultaneously laughed, came and forced her to do the same with his thumb on her clitoris. Their mutual yowls held as Loki took his revenge another way, staying hard and forcing his lithe bride into one orgasm after another until the feeling actually became truly unpleasant. Cradling a shaking, sweaty Asta, he kissed her with his own split lip, opening a trickle of blood from them both. "Do you yield, vixen?"

Still struggling to contain her violent shuddering, Asta's golden gaze fixed on him. "That depends," she said evenly. "Has your tantrum passed?" Watching his surprise and the filthy grin that spread his thin lips, Asta defiantly arched one dark brow.

Loki broke into uproarious laughter. "I should have been warned that first night when you bit me, you vicious little cat. And yes," he agreed in surprise, "I am much better."

"Good," groaned Asta, "because I believe you dislocated my shoulder and I would like you to re-set it."

It was a bizarre form of aftercare, Loki mused, as they licked and fussed over each other, still entwined in the wreckage of their bedroom and eventually falling asleep curled against each other in a tangle of bruised limbs after their curious grooming.


	15. The Politics Of Dancing

In which Asta and Loki lick their wounds. Literally. Also, terrible dance partners, unfortunate company and terrifying developments.

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Notes:

I'm deeply ashamed to admit there's no smut in this chapter. But the Plot was beginning to tap its foot impatiently. I'll make it up to you.

Chapter Text

Asta woke to the lovely, cool feeling of her husband's fingers against her back. She smiled, dipping her head back down to the pillow. "I should be doing this for you, Loki. I left quite a few claw marks." His broad chest jolted against hers as he laughed.

"Yes, you did, my vicious little cat. And I enjoyed making every one of them." He shifted, then admitted, "Yes, there's a couple we should take a look at..." Sitting up to care for her battered husband, Asta looked out the balcony doors to see the sun setting.

"How long did we sleep?" She yawned, carefully running her hand down the claw marks she'd made on his back, a comforting glow moving from her palm to Loki's skin.

"Long enough to be late for yet another banquet in our honor," the prince replied sardonically, "your blasted attendants woke me with their incessant knocking and fussing."

"I'm sorry," Asta soothed, moving on to a bite mark on his neck. "Where are they now?"

He shrugged, "With any common sense, on the other end of the palace by now." Feeling guilty, Loki's bride still burst into laughter.

Pasting the serene smile on her face Asta used for court responsibilities, she felt Loki's hand at her waist, squeezing her lightly over a bruise he'd left there. Her diabolical husband looked down to see Asta press her full lips together, trying to keep a straight face. Odin glared at the tardy couple in irritation. "Showing up late to their own wedding banquet? Ridiculously bad behavior. I expect it from Loki but I thought the girl had more sense."

"Hush, dear husband," Frigga smiled at her youngest as he seated his bride, whispering something that caused a flush to rise up her lovely face. "Look at their happiness. This _is_ a love match after all." It was true, Loki and Asta's heads were close together, laughing and talking. The Queen had suppressed a chuckle when they'd stumbled into the Dining Hall, flushed and trying to tidy each other. Their conspiratorial grins made it clear what they'd been up to.

All heads turned as angry voices rose further into the hall. Delegations from Vanaheim and Svartalfheim were shouting insults at each other.

"STOP!" The Allfather's voice thundered through the hall. "You _dare_ dishonor this celebration?" Royalty from both Realms angrily extinguished the verbal assault, but Loki and Asta both were still, staring intently at the glowering dwarves. Frigga's eyes widened to see them unconsciously clasp hands and lean into each other as if speaking, though their lips never moved. A glance to her husband showed he'd seen the curious moment as well.

"Should we-?"

"No." Loki's tone inside Asta's head was deceptively calm. "Let's see what more we can learn first."

His wife nodded absently, sending tendrils rippling from her mind, small roots searching for soil. The rage was easy, the red heat signature swirling over the tables. The dark purple of fear, especially from the normally peaceful Vanir. But...Asta sighed and shook her head.

"Nothing more?" Loki questioned.

"I'm not strong enough to push any farther," his bride admitted silently. "Have you?"

Loki's smile was dark, vulpine. "Will you dance, darling?" Seeing the wedding couple rise, guests gratefully pushed back their chairs as well as the musicians hastily tuned their instruments. While the Allfather would ordinarily be enraged at such a breach in protocol, he allowed it, leaning forward to watch the tables pushed back to make more room as the music rose.

Deliberately angling closer to the angry guests, Loki battled his fierce refusal to allow any of these men get near his wife. Her eyebrows rose pleadingly as Asta's golden eyes gazed up at his. "Please, my dear Prince. We can stay close to each other. But we must know more." His jaw clenched angrily and she knew it was the only sign he'd agree. Loki's teeth stayed clenched together as he nodded permission to a squat and swarthy Dark Dwarf nobleman requesting a dance with his bride. Watching Asta gracefully adjust her steps to her dark dance partner's blockier ones, the Prince turned to find a useful partner for their purpose.

"Forgive the disruption, Lady." The dwarf barked at Asta, "Vanir scum, always with their shrill, stupid-"

"Think nothing of it!" She interrupted, catching the sneers from those around them. "Misunderstandings happen between cultures, do they not?"

Her partner snorted grotesquely. "Sheep! Staying safe and pampered in Vanaheim while we hold borders against Surtur."

Trying to rapidly sift through the muddy thoughts of the dwarf, Asta nodded absently. "Your people do so much to keep the peace between the Nine Realms, do you not? The magnificent weapons you create from your labors in the mines-"

"Nothing more for the weak and the soft!" He growled, tightening his grip on her hand without thought. Asta gratefully pulled away and accepted another partner for the next dance, eyes searching for her husband.

"You seem distracted, Your Grace." The voice from her new partner was cold and composed, but with a hateful undertone that crawled up her spine like a spider.

Recognizing his rigid face as one of the Princes from Svartalfheim, Asta nodded her head respectfully. "Forgive me, my Lord, I meant no offense. I find large crowds somewhat overwhelming."

His thin-lipped smile lacked any warmth, but he continued. "I am Prince Andreas. We have not formally met." A look of slightly spiteful satisfaction crossed his chilly face as he asked, "Did you enjoy our House's gift, Sister?" He'd switched to the ancient form of Elvish. The Dark Elves' gift was exceptionally perverse: an exquisitely crafted treasure chest filled with an unimaginable profusion of gold, silver, and rare jewels. The chest was unlimited in its offering of untold riches- if a host shed blood for each offering, literally paying for the wealth with their life.

"It is... a challenging gift, Brother," offered Asta, following him into the Elvish tongue.

Prince Andreas smiled down at her fondly. "So perfectly beautiful, and yet so weak for an Elf. Is this what Alfheim breeds these days?" He grinned a black and cruel grimace as Asta tried to pull away. "Fragile kitten," he crooned. "How will you survive Ragnarok with your frail and... _obedient_ self?" Andreas sniffed distastefully. "I will petition my King to spare you." The Prince mused, "and I will show you what it means to rule. To sacrifice those whose lives do not matter for the greater good, dear Sister. You must be stronger if you are to survive-"

"If the nihilism of the mad and the stupid bring about the horrors of Ragnarok," she hissed like a viper, "there will be nothing left, brother. Just blasted earth and silence. Do not delude yourself." Andreas' hand was tightening on her wrist when she heard Loki's voice behind her.

"You will remove your hand from my wife." Loki ordered, adding a mocking "B_rother_." Loki's voice was frost as he spoke perfect Elvish.

Asta could see the kaleidoscope of rage, hate and madness rotate through Prince Andreas' silver eyes as he abruptly released her, sketching a mocking bow as he backed away. It was then she realized they were surrounded by contingents from both Elf courts. Light or Dark, there was always an assumed accord between them. It was based on the certainty of the Elven superiority to all other life forms. But the thick boil of malice was palpable.

Another thunderclap from Odin's staff shocked them back into the moment. "The evening is over," ordered the Allfather, his voice carrying across the gigantic space in a roar, "we bid goodnight to all our honored guests." Guards began pushing toward Loki and Asta, and they took each other's hand as they headed to the Asgard table and then to Odin's War Room.

Gasping as Loki yanked her behind a massive pillar, Asta grabbed his armored shoulder to right herself. "Did he hurt you?" Her husband was enraged, green eyes glowing as he ran his hands over her body.

"No, dear husband, I'm fine!" she rushed to reassure him, seeing the cyclonic rage of 'no one touches MY THINGS!' building in his pale face. "Should we speak with your Father now?"

Asta just caught the automatic "NOT my father-" Before her husband gathered his thoughts. "Yes. But I want us to share what we've learned together first. Discoveries this serious cannot pour out like a flood, do you understand?" Brow knitted but nodding, she agreed. By the time the irate guards found them again, they'd put together what was becoming a very grim tapestry.

"Where HAVE YOU BEEN!" Odin's single eye was blazing as they entered. Asta was surprised to see the Ljósálfar King and several of the Sisters of the Nagovisi there as well.

"Forgive me," Loki's voice was just on the edge of courtesy. "I had to attend to my bride's well-being first."

The Allfather growled, aware that his son was taunting him. "What in the name of Yggdrasil is _happening_? Fighting at a wedding banquet! Ill will between the two courts of the Elves? The appearance of not only that filth Surtur and his demons but also the Frost Giants? Neither has stepped foot from their Realms in _centuries!_"

The couple was grim as they faced him. Finally, Loki sighed and spoke. "There is a move to bring Ragnarok. Now."

It was several minutes before Odin's furious pounding of his staff controlled the outburst from the groups. "Tell us what you know, my son." Asta's heart swelled to hear his tone of respect, but the reflexive 'NOT my father!' still came from Loki. He seated her, requesting a drink for her and took the chair beside her. Frigga's smile was subtle but proud to see her misogynistic son look to his wife for answers.

"Something- or rather, someone has stirred the Nidavellir dwarves into a rage." Asta answered, "Their fury- they feel cheated, despised by Asgard and the other Realms. Has there been some serious slight or insult I've missed?" She looked around the room to see nothing but confusion. "Their hate seems focused on the Vanir at this time. The Nidavellir find them weak and undeserving. Surely Vanaheim is the most peaceful Realm of all? Why would the dwarves focus there?" Again, more head shakes, but Asta looked to the left to see the pride on Loki's face. The answering look of joy on hers was incandescent.

Thor, of all people, was the one to break the spell. "Stop with your mewling and simpering, you two! This is deadly serious and you're acting like fools!" His voice turned nasty. "Surely, you've bedded her enough, brother to concentrate on your world's security for a moment."

Loki shot up from his seat and Odin pounded his staff again. Frigga and Asta looked at each other in frustration. With all the shouting and chest-puffing, Surtur could sweep in and claim the throne in the void left by the furious arguing of their men.

"I expected better."

There was silence after the clipped, furious tone of King Leafstred. He stood tall, hands behind his back and staring in disgust. The Sisters stood behind him silently, carefully expressionless. "All the Nine Realms in grave danger and you fight among yourselves? There is a break in the accord between the Light Elves and the Dark for the first time in history. There is a chasm between our Courts- I cannot feel them. The Svartálfar have chosen to do this, somehow. They would only do such a thing with powerful magics- more ancient than anything I know. The Dark Brothers have aligned themselves. But with who, I do not know."

Asta raised her head, sighing. "Someone has convinced them that the Dark Elves can survive Ragnarok and rule what is left. They're aligning, I believe, with Surtur and intend to use the dwarves as cannon fodder. Would King Laufey choose to join them? I'd thought the Frost Giants never accepted allies. Could this have changed?" She felt the rigid form of her husband next to get, hating to bring up the Jötunn, knowing the pain it caused him.

Odin sighed, running his hand over his scarred brow. "There's a delicate balance of power at best. Should Jotunheim choose to ally with the others, it could be catastrophic."

Loki spoke next. "The Sisters of the Navogisi are here for a reason. Madames, you count centuries ahead when you do your..." He struggled for the right words, looking at his lovely wife. "...your work. Have you anticipated these developments?" The Ljósálfar King raised a fine brow, looking on the second born of Odin with approval.

"The right question, Prince." He answered. "There is a reason we gave you the gifts we did." Uncharacteristically, the stately ruler of the Light Elves began to pace. "We see war. Destruction. But... Ragnarok? Who could be so insane?"

The Dark Prince stood then as well, making his way to the Nagovisi quartet of women, quiet in their corner. "I suspect, Sisters, that you have an idea."

The one closest raised a brow. "And what would make you think that, my Lord?" Loki bent his long legs to squat in front of them face to face.

"You gifted my wife with certain skills that were not expressed at her Birth. I have to-" He looked back to his attentive Asta, "-_We_ have to believe it was for a reason."

The Sister that cared for Asta at her birth leaned forward. "You have been far more perceptive than we might have thought, Your Grace." As a unit, the Sisters looked at each other and seemed to confer silently. The Lead Sister spoke again with a sigh. "We believe that a Titan has survived. Perhaps more than one. There is no magic more ancient. Or more deadly."

The news seemed to flatten everyone in the room. Odin recovered first, gazing sternly at the rest. "My Father's Father drove the Titans back. My Father destroyed those who were left. If we must, we will face them again before allowing Ragnarok." He sighed, raising heavily from his seat. "Not a word of this leaves this room. Do we all understand?" The Allfather stared at each in turn before nodding. "Then let us retire."

Rather than walking the huge halls under the eyes of hundreds of guests, Loki chose to transport Asta directly to their room. He smiled briefly at her chuckle of enjoyment. Carefully undressing each other, they fell in bed together, agreeing silently to not speak of the horrors that awaited them until the morning.


	16. Yes, Daddy

In which plans are made, Loki's expertise is ignored by his father, but appreciated by his bride.

Chapter Text

Waking to Loki roughly spreading her thighs as far as they would go, Asta thought it was as if the night before never happened. That she and her dark husband didn't stand hand in hand before the Allfather and King Leafstred- before the whole Council Room and spoke together. The Prince was back to whispering filthy suggestions in her ear as his rough, sure hands traveled up her thighs to her pussy.

"Spread them wider, little girl." His voice was sin and suggestion, deeper than usual, "Daddy wants to see your sweet little cunt." To her embarrassment, when Loki's clever fingers reached his goal, Asta was already wet. His gloating smile and the slow, knowing way his eyes looked up to hers made Asta squirm with the desire to hide from her husband. "Ah-ah!" Loki said sharply, "you do not have permission to move away from me. That is one of your first rules. Do you understand?"

Licking her suddenly dry lips, his blushing bride whispered, "Yes, Daddy."

"Very good, little girl," the dark prince purred. Putting one heavy forearm over her hipbones to hold her in place, he gazed at her threateningly. "You will not receive a spanking from Daddy this time, because you didn't know your rules. But if you ever try to move away from me again, I will blister that soft little bottom of yours. Do you understand, darling?"

Asta put her hands over her beet red face as his mouth met her wet, swollen pussy. "Yes, Daddy..." she groaned.

Since she'd had no expectations as to her wedding celebrations, Asta wasn't disappointed that she and Loki were called back in to confer with the Allfather and the Light Elves delegation. She watched Thor resentfully pacing back and forth, seemingly taunted by his brother's calm. "It seems you have no concern that a Titan and a collection of the worst of the Nine Realms could bring about the end of the Universe!" Thor snapped after watching Loki kiss Asta's hand.

Rolling his eyes, his younger brother gazed at him levelly. "You seem very... pent up, brother. Perhaps a visit to the brothel might help?"

"Silence!" roared Odin as half the room hid smiles, including the usually grave Sisters of the Nagovisi. Frigga didn't smirk, watching her eldest with concern. She knew her son was still shaken from being passed over by the Progeny, and it seemed his jealousy and bitterness grew every day. Thor was the golden son- he'd never been denied anything in his life. And while Loki and Asta's love match could be a character-defining moment for him, the Queen wasn't certain Thor was capable.

When the speculation of what they knew started repeating itself, the Allfather called an end to the meeting. "We'll send spies to all the suspect Realms," he decided. "We can't do more until we know more."

"If I may suggest..." Asta automatically looked at her husband first, who nodded, drawing another sneer from Thor. "If I may suggest, Allfather- the fury of the dwarves seemed heavily focused toward Vanaheim. Perhaps a buildup of your warriors on that border would be helpful? Just in case."

Odin's sharp blue eye looked at her thoughtfully, then nodded. Brusquely dismissing them, he ordered his sons to stay behind. If Loki was expecting to be praised by his father for the crucial information gathered between himself and his wife, the prince was bound to be disappointed. The King directed most of his attention to his eldest, asking his thoughts and discussing military strategy. Loki was not disappointed, however. The pattern was always the same since birth. Knowing now that Odin was not his father made the disrespect bearable. Propping one booted foot on the council table, Loki thought back to when he discovered the truth. Ironically, it was an assassination attempt. One in a line of many women he took to bed turned out to be a Jötunn assassin, a shapeshifter simply trying to earn a bounty by killing one of the great Princes of Asgard. She changed form as Loki was plunging into her, expecting to kill him with her full-body glacial embrace. But as the unfortunate Jötunn changed form, so did the Prince. Looking down in horror at his blue and ridged skin, he roared at her. "What have you _done,_ you bitch! What have you done to me!"

His would-be assassin was still staring in shock at Loki's transformation. "You're- you're one of us!" she gasped. "How? How could this be? What_ are_you?"

In his horror and distress, he killed her instantly, snapping her neck and pulling himself out of her still, blue form. His skin returned immediately to his usual pale, and when the Prince frantically stared at himself in the mirror, he could see no change. His habits of childhood during great distress returned, and Loki headed for his mother's chambers. When Frigga saw his shock, her eyes filled with tears. She knew immediately that somehow, her second son knew the truth. They spoke throughout the night, Loki alternately raging and sinking into silent, stunned betrayal. She knelt before him, holding his slack hands in hers. "Dear one. Your father found you in the Jötunn's temple. He was seeking Laufey, the King. He found you instead, so silent and watchful, even as a newborn. Odin could not leave you there to perish. He brought you home, and you've been our child ever since. In every sense of the word, my beloved son."

Loki stood suddenly, his eyes blazing with green fire. "NOT. My Father. But it all makes sense now, how Thor was given everything. There was never a possibility that I would gain the throne. But didn't he enjoy dangling that CARROT!" As his voice rose to a shout, Loki knew he was losing control and needed to leave his mother. "You will not tell that man I know the truth. Promise me!"

Tears in her eyes, Frigga nodded. "It is for you to tell him what you know. You need to speak with him and-" Her words drifted in empty space; Loki was gone.

Blinking back to the present, Loki sighed and ordered wine, waiting for the two eldest in the room to stop posturing. At some point, he would be required to form a plan that Thor would then claim as his own. When finally released from the War Council, the Prince went in search of his bride, looking forward to taking out his frustrations on her soft body. Following the sound of humming through his mother's medicinal garden, Loki found Asta on her knees, carefully gathering soil around the branch they'd been gifted from the Ljósálfar. "I must say, I very much enjoy finding you in this position, darling." He strolled closer until he towered over her, blocking out the sunlight. "But on your knees in the dirt, not quite how I planned to take you." The Dark Prince shook his head in amusement as she blushed again. After all the delightfully profane things he'd done to her this morning, how could his bride still be so shy? "Tell me about this branch," he asked, "what is its value? Why the secrecy?"

Asta took his hand, pulling him down to kneel next to her. Running his long fingers over the little sapling, she asked, "What do you feel?"

The Prince's eyes closed for a moment. The wood sent tremors through his hand and up his arm. Unconsciously rotating his armored shoulders, he concentrated harder. "It is... much like the Tree of Life, but..."

His eyes opened to meet her amber ones. Asta's fingers ran along his over the sapling. "It's from the Shining Garden of the Light Elves, the garden we have tended since the beginning of Time. It is said the tree grew from a branch of Yggdrasil."

"Does it extend life, grant immortality like Iðunn'sgolden apples?" Loki couldn't take his hand from the little branch, gently stroking the wood and feeling it vibrate against his touch.

His bride shook her head. "Not precisely. The Tree is powerful medicine, it can save even the most grievously injured." Asta unconsciously leaned forward. "But it is said to have greater powers. The tree can bring the dead back to life."

A warm wind seemed to sweep through the garden, stirring Asta's endless ribbon of hair. Absently pushing a curl behind her ear, Loki regarded her with a slight frown. "How do you mean- as one of the Undead?" She shuddered. The Undead were risen corpses brought to movement by powerful magic, horrifying and nearly impossible to put back down.

"No! Not like those terrible creatures. The Tree grants life again, just as the soul and body were before being separated. It is said to be able to give breath back to those denied their life's purpose." She smiled fondly down at the sapling. "I have never heard of a graft of this sacred Tree ever being given before."

Loki continued to smooth his fingers along the humming surface. If what his wife said was true, the value of this little branch was incalculable. "This is why no one must know of this gift," Asta pleaded. "It is too precious for anything but the most desperate need. Can you construct an enchantment to hide it?"

Her husband rose smoothly, holding out one big palm to help her up. "I can," Loki agreed, "but we must eventually share this news with the Queen. She is not only a powerful healer, but she's also an enchantress with skills equal to mine." He smiled suddenly, remembering. "Not surprising, since Mother was my teacher."

Asta allowed herself a small smile, loving the affection in his voice as he called Frigga "Mother" again. "I understand," she agreed, "I just- I don't want to give her information that she would have to keep from the King."

A dark rage swept across her Intended's face like a summer storm. "Oh, darling. You'd be surprised at the secrets she can keep from Odin." Loki pushed down his rage. A shielding spell this powerful required a clear mind. Gritting his teeth as the proper words refused to form on his lips, Loki nearly yanked his hand back when Asta twined her fingers with his.

"Take it from me," she urged, "take your calm from me." Her husband took a deep breath, releasing it through his nose. Her heated touch was working with his efforts, allowing razor-sharp focus.

Asta was stunned to see this display of power from her husband. Loki was known throughout the Nine Realms for his skills in sorcery, but to witness it was fascinating. Watching the green glow from his hands settle around their tiny tree, Loki exhaled in relief. While such advanced magic usually drained him, looking at the admiration on his lovely wife's face reminded him of the reason for his trip to the garden in the first place.

"I believe you owe me a debt, little one." His lascivious grin left no doubt as to how it should be paid, and Asta's breath came faster as he took her hand and led her rapidly through the darkening paths until he reached a large bed of violets. Asta stepped back as he reached for the lacings on her dress.

"My Lord, anyone could see us!" she pleaded, but Loki was undeterred.

"Only the Royal Family is allowed here," he said, pulling off her gown and yanking her flimsy silks away. "Thor is no doubt deep in his cups and equally deep inside a whore, and the King and Queen have the duty of seeing to the wedding guests." Pushing Asta to her knees, he ran one hand along her heated cheek. "As you have duties, my lovely Pet, to your Lord." Loki put her hand on his urgent and extremely prominent erection. "Take me out," he urged, still stroking her cheek. Biting her lip, Asta tried to ignore the embarrassment of being naked in an open space, with her fully dressed husband standing over her, legs arrogantly spread as he waited for her to finish unlacing his leather covering.

Sitting back on her heels, Asta's teeth worried at her full lip again. Loki gleefully made certain she'd been well-acquainted with the part of him currently throbbing at eye level, but she'd never seen his cock quite so close. She put up one hand, placing her palm against the glistening, flared head. It was spongy and soft to the touch, but what it covered was more like granite. Closing her fingers against his shaft as he'd taught her, the girl squeezed his cock firmly, root to tip. Asta felt the power shift subtly between them as her husband's head dropped back. "Again," Loki ordered, his sonorous voice gone hoarse with arousal. She obeyed, stroking him with one hand and gathering up a long length of her ebony hair with the other.

Feeling something like silk wrapping around his cock, Loki's eyes opened to see his innocent wife's glossy curls winding around his shaft. The erotic slip and slide of her hair as she continued tugging on him made his dick swell to the point where he thought his skin would split. Then, those pink lips of hers took the head glistening with pre-come into her fiery hot mouth. Groaning, Loki realized his studious wife was licking and sucking at the broad tip in the same way his mouth had played with her clitoris. The realization was so carnal that he was suddenly, helplessly erupting. "Drink what comes from me," Loki managed to order just before his come surged into Asta's mouth, dripping down her little fist and painting her hair. Dropping to his knees, the Prince kissed his bride, stroking his tongue over her lips and into her mouth. Laying Asta back into the violets, he admired how delicious and debauched he'd made his pristine lover. Tracing a spurt of his come that landed on her breasts, Loki idly rubbed it into her soft skin, watching her nipples tighten in response.

"Such a good girl," he soothed, "Daddy is pleased with you." Suddenly pulling her over his lap, Loki shocked Asta into yelping as his broad palm slapped hard again one buttock, and then the other. Ass stinging, she looked up at him. "Except, of course, for attempting to deny your Daddy what was his as I undressed you. That won't happen again, will it?" When she hesitated too long, his harsh hand slammed down over the red handprints already decorating her burning behind. Smiling at her muffled shriek, Loki purred, "Will it?"

There was a sniff and then he heard a low "No, Daddy."

Rubbing a blissfully cool hand over the heated welts, he smiled darkly. "That's my good girl." Pulling her up, Loki seated her on his lap, knees spread over his. Deliberately placing those huge, freezing palms on her scathingly hot bottom, he lifted Asta up- then down slowly on his thick, chilly cock, already hard and ready for her again. The feeling inside her made him feel like he was on fire, Loki's member sliding slickly through the volcanic heat of his wife's pussy. Feeling her shake and tremble against him, her dark husband kissed her neck soothingly. "Beautiful girl," he praised, "you make me feel like my skin is searing off my shaft. Your heat and wet- I want to live inside you." Loki pushed up harder as he shoved her down over him, driving his dick deeper inside Asta's helplessly clenching channel. Feeling her back arch painfully, he knew she was close. Shoving her backward onto the fragrant violets, Loki braced his feet to push harder against the clamping down of his lovely bride's impending orgasm. Feeling her shake as Asta tried to obey him, he smiled and kissed her soothingly. "You may come."

With a grateful sob, she did, moaning "Loki! Mmmm... Daddy!" And as her hardest spasm hit "OH! My Lord!" Loki grinned into her neck, holding Asta brutally tight as she shuddered and wept against him, kissing her forehead and cheeks soothingly until she settled. And then, once he was sure his bride was calm, her dark husband whispered, "Again." Forcing himself through her shuddering contractions, Loki came, pulling a sobbing Asta along with him into another helpless orgasm.

Once their breathing slowed and the sweat on their bodies cooled, the prince transported them back to his bed and gently wiped her clean, putting a soothing lotion on Asta's sorest spots. In the morning, all the petals of the violets in the garden bed opened to the sun. But a perfect imprint of the Prince and Princess of Asgard stayed pressed into the flowers for as long as the violets bloomed in the Royal Garden.


	17. What Are They Waiting For?

In which Asta discovers Sex...Loneliness...Abandonment...Stupidity...Asshole Fathers-In-Law.

Chapter Text

"What are they _waiting_ for?"

It was a common refrain from everyone in the castle. Aesir spies sent to the very edges of the galaxy found enough information to verify the nightmare plot Loki and Asta had uncovered- well, those lucky enough to return. There were many troubling disappearances of good men and woman- talented spies who could not have been caught easily.

To Asta's great distress, her husband embarked on several intelligence-gathering missions himself. Loki tried- in his impatient way- to reassure her. His wife was silently packing items needed for his trip, trying to not show her anxiety over his leaving yet again.

"Darling. I'm a shapeshifter, a sorcerer. This is something I've done for Asgard well before you were born." He watched her nod, eyes still averted. Sighing, he walked over, tipping her head up with a hand on her chin. His bride's amber eyes were swimming with tears, but she put on a determined smile. "There she is," Loki soothed, "my beautiful Asta who always has a smile for me."

Unaccountably touched by both his wife's tears and her smile, the dark prince cradled her face in his hands and bent to kiss her. The fierceness of her response sent Loki's cock to instant attention and he began pulling her towards their bed. "Do we have time?" she gasped between kisses, "I would not wish to delay the others..." Loki started laughing at her efforts to sound responsible as her arms and legs wound around him in a desperate grip that most men could not have loosened.

"Always for you, darling," he assured, already hovering over her and pulling her bodice open.

Mercifully for Asta, Loki took extra care and time that afternoon, though it left his small group chafing at the bit in the courtyard. The two pale bodies writhed under the green canopy of their bed. Sliding into his bride for the third time, he groaned. "I somehow foolishly try to gain my fill of you before I have to leave you again. Which of course only makes me crave you that much more desperately."

"Then don't leave me, Daddy," Asta whispered, playing into the fantasy that his departure was not inevitable. "Who'll help me be a good girl when you're gone?"

Her husband laughed, still stroking inside her, "You _will_ be good, little girl. Because you know you can't hide your transgressions from me, and I'm perfectly capable of doling out your punishments for the next century if needed." The combination of his filthy promises in that exquisite elocution along with the relentless slide of Loki's more than generous cock sent them both into their third finish of the afternoon. Asta let out a very un-princess-likee shriek when her diabolical spouse slid his hand under the base of her spine and pushed her upwards, hard. The shove of his shaft against her already tender clitoris and the brutal entry of his dick near her cervix launched the girl over the precipice of agony-pleasure where Loki was always so very good at drawing from her.

Fandral, who'd been wandering in the direction of the Prince's terrace in hopes of shouting up at him to hurry, heard Asta's shriek of appreciation and rolled his eyes. Turning on his heel and striding back to the group, Fandral shook his blonde head. The group groaned and made themselves comfortable again.

Rounding the corner of the courtyard, Loki looked irritably at the group meant to travel with him, lolling indolently in the shade. "What are you doing?" he shouted, "why aren't you fools ready to go!" He walked over to Fryktløs, smoothing the horse's coal black flank. Yelping as the annoyed stallion bit him on the arm, Loki fed him an apple. "You don't like to be kept waiting, do you, Fryktløs? I'm sorry, my friend," he soothed.

Volstagg growled, pulling at his red beard. "Please let me punch his pretty face," he groaned to Fandral, "just once, I beg you!"

His blonde companion shook his head, pointing to the balcony where Asta stood in her robe. The men stared at her waterfall of ebony hair and pink cheeks. As the party looked up, she raised a hand in farewell, a resolute smile on her beautiful face. The dark Prince looked around at their slack jaws and sighed. "Mount up, you idiots!" But as the group headed out the gate, he turned to look back one more time to see his bride, lit in the late afternoon sun.

The six weeks her Intended was gone were excruciating for the Princess of Asgard. The horrifying dreams returned in full force- the blood and screaming of Surtur and his demons, the more treacherous and thus more terrifying betrayal of the Dark Elves. And somehow, the thread of her responsibility for Ragnarök stitched through the nightmare landscape. Asta told no one, enduring the screaming as she woke alone. There was no information to be gained from the endless parade of horrors through her subconsciousness, so she was determined to bear it until there was something concrete to share. Asta obsessively cared for the sapling growing confidently in the hidden pocket of the medicinal garden, certain it would be needed soon. She studied the healing arts under Frigga and meditated every night, sending trails of psychic inquiry as far as she could throw them, trying to discover what was happening. And as always, she fretted as the rest of the palace did. What are they waiting for?

Thor returned home from his work on the borders on Vanaheim to much fanfare, though he found no activity that he could actually engage while patrolling there. His frustration was clear at a War Council that night, along with Sif and Hogun. For the first time in centuries, the Warriors Three were separated to create two crucial Royal reconnaissance parties. It was clear the separation grated on them all. To her surprise, Asta was still included in the meetings, with questions regarding anything further she'd discovered. She watched with sympathy as a drawn and exhausted Thor tiredly answered the questions of the Allfather and his generals, over and over. "Brother," she suddenly interrupted, "perhaps it would be more useful to discuss what you did not find." Thor and his compatriots looked up in actual gratitude, worn from the endless circular arguments.

"What are you thinking, Sister?" The firstborn offered with a relieved smile.

"Did you see any massing of troops on the Vanaheim border?" Asta queried.

"No," all three shook their heads.

"Yet," she mused, "all signs point to increased mining and metal welding by the Dwarves in Nidavellir. Is there any sign of this flow of arms? Is there any movement through Vanaheim that you saw?"

Thor rubbed his eyes. "No, Sister. But... there's a strange reduction of crops and rainfall in the Realm. There's no reason for it that the Elders can find."

Odin's blue eye narrowed. "There will be stockpiling. And starvation that makes treachery almost noble."

The three warriors nodded as he continued. "General. Send stores of both to all the major cities. Make loud statements about the comfort of the populace and the plenty of both."

Asta sighed. "A change in weather on such a massive scale points again to a more powerful magic. Is there any word from King Leafstred about any reverberation from the Dark Elves?"

It was Queen Frigga this time who shook her head. "Nothing they can trace."

The meeting ended on an unsatisfying note, but the group departed so the returning company could eat and restore themselves. The Allfather raised an imperious hand as his daughter-in-law rose to follow them. "Stay, Progeny."

Asta's lips thinned. In the six months she'd been married to his youngest son, Odin had never once spoken her name. "Yes, Allfather?" she answered with the slightest edge.

He leaned back, staring at her with one sharp blue eye. "Is there anything you are holding back?"

The girl blinked, this was not the query she'd expected. "I beg your pardon, Your Grace?"

Odin impatiently waved away her answer. "I was aware from the first War Council that you and my son withheld information. Is there anything now that you have not shared with this council?"

Asta's gold-amber eyes narrowed. She'd battled her gentle nature to keep from despising her father-in-law, but encounters like this made it harder. "Do you question my loyalty, Your Grace? Do you question your son's devotion to Asgard?" To her sorrow, the reflexive "NOT my son!" thought came from the Allfather as well.

"I question the sanity of hiding even a scrap of information that could help us," he answered coldly.

The fury the princess felt was difficult to contain. "Your second-born has traveled an eternity to seek answers, nearly double than your first. You would question his loyalty?"

Odin drew back on his massive seat, clutching his staff. "You _dare_ question my judgement, you ridiculous child? You could not even select your correct Intended!"

"And there we have it," Asta thought, trying to control her fury. She stood to her tallest height, striding to the Asgardian King. "I knew who I was Intended for. Thousands of years of work from the Nagovisi will not be undermined by your arrogance." "Your Grace," she added.

"You were meant for THOR!" he roared suddenly. "For _Thor_, you stupid girl!"

Asta's hands clenched to keep from striking the man shouting in her face. "Your Grace," she hissed, "you are the fool in this room. You have lived for five THOUSAND YEARS and yet still consumed in your arrogance and stupidity-"

"YOU WILL NOT SPEAK TO ME SO!" bellowed Odin, "I have RULED for five THOUSAND years! And you? Mere centuries! You know NOTHING!"

Striding to him, Loki's gentle bride realized for the first time she was taller than her father-in-law. Drawing up to her full height to stare down, she smiled unpleasantly. "I am the product of countless generations of Light Elves, bred for _this_ moment in time. I KNOW Loki will save the Nine Realms, and your blindness and presumption will be your downfall unless you can change. Are you capable of this, Allfather?"

When the blue eye before her blazed with hate and fury, the Progeny shook her head. "I pray one day you will understand the gift you were given in the Jotunnheim temple that day. Before it's too late, and your kingdom _falls_."

Perhaps if Odin had ever been privy to the fierceness his son's wife could show, this conversation would not be such a shock. But he'd dismissed her after her "obvious" error in selecting the "wrong" son. Sitting alone in his Council Room as she strode out angrily, the Allfather of the Nine Realms of the Universe questioned his choices about his sons for the first time.

Furiously striding through the vast halls leading to the rooms she shared with Loki, Asta's steps faltered. The pain in her heart seemed to be cycling lower to her abdomen. Pressing both hands against the throbbing area, she gritted her teeth, trying to walk on. Finally, after a lightning bolt of agony that circulated through her stomach, the Princess of Asgard fell to her knees, gasping and trying to call for help. Ironically, it was Thor that heard her groan of agony, hurrying over to gently lift her shuddering body and race her to the Healers. Laying her down on the diagnostic bed, he suddenly leaned forward and kissed Asta tenderly on her cheek. "You must be well, Sister. You_ must_."


	18. What Are Brothers For?

In which Asta gets to be a badass. Sort of.

Chapter Text

When Asta woke, she was back in her own bed with the Queen and a healer seated close by, both dozing. Reaching up with a shaky hand, she rubbed her eyes, then tried to sit up. The healer was instantly awake, sliding a hand under the girl's shoulders. "Slowly, my Lady. You are quite weak still."

Frigga calmly set pillows for her daughter in law to lean against, then held a glass to her lips. Drinking gratefully, Asta finally leaned back. "What happened? I remember coming back to my rooms and collapsing..."

The Queen glanced at the healer, then back again at her. "The best we can all surmise is... you were feeling something from your bond with Loki."

She was touched by the sudden look of anguish from Asta. "Is he hurt? Have you heard anything? What can we do? Can we-"

"Hush, child. I know you're worried for Loki, as am I. But there is no one more clever than he for getting out of a dangerous situation. Ask Thor to tell you about the time they took an unauthorized trip to Midgard and attracted the attention of the military there." Frigga smiled at Asta's frustrated expression. "I know, it's hard to sit back when those you love are in danger. But have faith in your husband."

The healer's hands have been busy, deftly checking her patient's temperature, listening to her heart, checking her pulse. "Have you always had such a high core temperature, Princess?"

Asta shifted to ease her back. "No. It was part of my metamorphosis after my Birth."

The woman nodded thoughtfully, "I fear our knowledge of the physiology of the Progeny is limited. But it is known that the soul bonds created between the Progeny and their Intended can cause one to feel the other, perhaps even communicate psychically?"

Asta smiled politely, she was bound by centuries of secrecy. The Allmother eyed her carefully, already aware that her son and daughter-in-law communicated on some level the world could not see.

A knock on the doors just slightly lighter than a battering ram sounded, and Frigga chuckled. "I fear that it is my firstborn. He was the one to find you and bring you to the healers. He's been quite agitated."

Her daughter in law laughed too. Making sure she was dressed properly, Asta called out, "Enter please!"

The huge door slammed open, Thor thumping into the room. "Sister!" he bellowed cheerfully, I am much relieved to see you well! You gave us all quite a scare."

Asta laughed, "the great God of Thunder, terrified by a silly fainting spell? Surely not! But thank you, brother, for finding me. You are my hero."

A strange expression crossed Thor's face before he smiled again. "What are brothers for?" Somehow, the words sounded bleak from him.

The Queen stood, graciously indicating it was time to leave. The healer and her son nodded, Thor briskly kissing Asta's cheek and then his mother's. Holding out her hand, the Princess asked, "would you stay a moment more?" Frigga seated herself again on the bed. "What news of my husband?" Asta pleaded, "Is he expected soon? It's been six weeks- he's never been away this long."

The Allmother regretfully shook her head. "There's no word, I'm sorry. Do not trouble yourself!" She added hastily, seeing the look of fear on Asta's face. "You know we can't expect much news from such a campaign. It's been my experience that most news from missions such as these is bad."

Asta forced a smile and nodded. "Of course."

The Queen hesitated, then said, "And I have something to ask you."

"Of course."

"Just before your collapse, you'd been speaking in a rather... strong fashion with the King."

The Princess bowed her head. "I am sorry. Allmother. But his disrespect for your son... the lack of regard he holds for him- I- I was not able to hold my tongue."

Frigga smiled, trying to hold in a laugh. "Even the feared King of Asgard sometimes requires his misconceptions brought to light." But now she became a Queen again, stern. "He tells me you knew of Loki's true heritage, even that he was found in the Johtunn Temple."

Asta felt sick. How could she have been so foolish? She let her anger overcome her good sense.

"How do you know this?" the Queen pressed. "There are only four people alive who know. I cannot believe Loki told you. I know the pain his discovery caused him."

"I gathered most of it from snippets of thought from Loki," Asta admitted. "And when I asked you, I kept seeing Jotunn blue. But the Frost Giant delegation at our wedding- when King Laufey presented the ice sword, his mind was on fire to know if Loki was his. He wanted him to take the sword, knowing his form would change. That's why I took it so quickly. When we both held the sword, I saw a vision of an empty blanket, lying on the altar in the Temple."

Frigga rubbed her forehead. "The King did not know that Loki had discovered the truth. He was furious, certain I'd told you until he saw my surprise. What did my son say when you spoke with him about King Laufey?"

Asta shook her head. "I haven't. I believed it was his right to tell me when he was ready." She buried her head in her hands. "And now I've brought it to light in the worst possible way to the last person Loki would wish to know that he'd discovered the truth. What have I done?"

Frigga gave her a warm hug. "Nothing that didn't have to surface at some point, and given the stubbornness of those two, it could have been millennia more. There is no need to worry now, but you will have to speak to Loki soon." Watching the blood drain from Asta's face, the Queen hugged her again. "My son loves you. Surely you don't fear him?"

"It's not fear, but it is a source of shame for him. He will feel that I've violated something he wasn't yet willing to share with me." The girl was embarrassed to feel tears welling up.

"Do not borrow worry when it may not be needed," urged the Queen. Pulling up the covers around her again and urging her to rest, Frigga left the room, leaving her daughter in law to stare out the window, lips moving in a prayer for her dark husband.

The next week dragged along, enduring the nightmares alone in Loki's bed and spending the day focused on tending the medicinal garden and reading everything she could find on healing agents. Asta's dresses began to hang on her as she paced back and forth, trying to clear her mind and be open to anything from her husband. Watching her wear a path along the stone terrace one day, Thor finally walked over. "Sister, why don't we take a stroll through the gardens if you're set on this relentless pacing?"

Asta smiled and shook her head. "I fear the gardens would be more of the same."

Thor nodded stiffly. He hated walking past the violet garden bed, with its perfectly etched reminder of his brother and sister in law's passion. "How about a walk through the town, instead? Gather some fruit from the market, look at the new spices in from Valheim?"

Seeing his kind, worried face made the Princess feel guilty. Here was a god happiest plunging into battle, and there was nothing for him to do but wait as well. Taking his arm, she forced a cheerful smile. "Thank you, brother. That would be lovely."

And it was- the smaller center of the bustling city filled with goods from other Realms, strangely dressed visitors, musicians, and jugglers. Asta stopped to admire a group of songbirds singing in perfect Nidavellirian, with the dwarves playing flutes to accompany them. Thor urged a pastry into her hand, and the Princess nibbled it absently as she walked and enjoyed the experience. Thor took a deep breath, eliciting a murmur of appreciation from some shopgirls as his chest swelled to epic proportions. "You must stop," Asta laughed, "you're going to make those poor girls faint."

Her brother in law swung his blond head around him, looking back at her blankly. "Who?"

'It felt good to laugh again', thought Asta as she actually guffawed. "Please, brother. you have to know how you affect the women in your immediate orbit? The sighs, the whispers, and giggling?"

Thor took her hand a sketched an elaborate bow, kissing her hand. "The only beauty I see in my immediate orbit is yours, dear Asta."

The length of time his lips stayed pressed to her hand and the yearning expression as his eyes rose to meet hers made Asta smile politely as she pulled her hand from his lips and said, "We must be getting back, brother, I have plants I must tend tonight-"

"They're back!"

The calls from the castle guards and the horns that sounded outside the walls made Thor and Asta race for the gate. She gathered up her skirts and pelted through the streets, her heart pounding joyfully. The huge steel doors shuddered open, and Loki's group galloped through. They looked terrible- wounds and gashes on every one of them, and a white sling cradling Volstagg's massive arm. Frantically looking through the dust churned up by the horses, Asta tried to spot her husband. Thor threw himself on Fandral first, then clapped Volstagg's huge shoulder. "Are you well? Where was the battle? Who was it-"

"Where is Loki?" Asta's voice was light and clear, but it carried through the huge courtyard and silenced everyone. Turning that intense amber gaze on the battered little group, she asked again. "Where is my husband? Where is Prince Loki?" Her jaw tightened as she examined each face, none of them able to look at her long.

"Princess," Fandral stepped forward, "my Lady, we were ambushed by a group of Dark Elves. We managed to slay them, but another group came out of the forest. Loki lured them away before they spotted us. He was-"

"You LEFT MY HUSBAND alone with a battle unit of Dark Elves?" Asta's voice didn't rise, but it somehow echoed uncomfortably against the stone walls, making everyone flinch a little.

"Sister-"

"My Lady-"

"PRINCESS ASTA!" roared Volstagg, "you must listen, please. This happened a little over a week ago-" Thor's eyes met Asta's, just when she'd had her collapse. "-and we searched for the Prince for days. There is no sign of him. But according to the intelligence we received the Dark Elves didn't find him, either. We returned only to gather more men and supplies. We will go back out and not return until we bring your Prince home with us. He's alive, we're sure of it."

Absently placing a hand over her heart, she nodded with utter belief. "I know. He carries my soul. If he had perished, I would be gone as well."

The following week was a living Hel of uncertainty for the Royal Family. Asta's dreams intensified, and finally, she couldn't bear it. Pulling on a dressing gown, she began wandering through the corridors of the castle at night, not sure what she was looking for. In the late hours of the seventh night, the Princess found herself at the door of the Royal treasury- the highly secured vault where Asgard's treasures remained hidden. With an ironic twist to her full lips, Asta told the guards, "I'm just here to visit our wedding gifts." They didn't seem to understand the humor, but nodded respectfully and opened the huge doors for her. Walking through the massive granite hall, she could feel at least a dozen highly developed curses hovering in the room. While Asta couldn't see them, she had enough experience with Loki to recognize their menace. Her steps slowed, then halted as the Princess reached the gift from King Laufey. Impulsively, she reached forward to take the Is Sverd from its bracket.

"That would be unwise."

Gasping, she swung around to see Hogun watching her gravely. Asta had been so fascinated with the Is Sverd that she'd not even heard him enter. She gave him a wry nod and a smile. "The guards called you here to supervise me? I apologize for them waking you."

Hogun was always the most silent of the Warriors Three, clipped in his comments and rarely entering into banter with the others. But Asta knew he was brilliant and watchful. "I was awake, your Grace, but I am always at your service at any time."

Suddenly bitter, she replied, "I wish you'd been with my husband's party. Perhaps then he would be here and safe." Volstagg kept his promise, and they'd all left the following morning, including Thor. Messages filtered back from the search, but no sign of Loki.

Hogun shook his head. "Please do not blame the others. Any one of them would gladly give their life for the Prince." Asta wasn't certain. She'd seen snippets of the past from her husband's thoughts and the occasional comment from Frigga gave her an accurate picture. Having been together for centuries, the Warriors Three and Sif always sided with Thor, even in times she was certain they knew the second born was correct.

"Be as it may..." she sighed, looking back to the sword. She heard him step forward when she reached for it, but Asta raised a firm hand, still not taking her eye off the glowing weapon. "I'm sure you watched me hold the Is Sverd at the gifting ceremony." She heard the slightest "hmph!" from the man, but he stood back. Lifting it carefully, Asta watched the sword's frost creep up her hands and wrists, only to melt away. She could feel the vibration come through the metal and into her bones, but she didn't feel threatened, just the weapon's immense power. The shift of the frost pushed back harder this time but was still beaten back by her higher temperature. Experimentally swinging the blade, she was astonished at how light it was.

Hogan made another surprised grunt. "It took three men to lift the Is Sverd to bring it here.

How can this be?"

Shrugging, Asta's amber eyes were glued to the light shimmering along the lethal length of the blade, swinging it again, this time faster. And again. And again, until she was wielding the weapon with both hands and spinning confidently around the room, never nearing close enough to Hogun for harm. Slipping back from a feint with an expert twist of her wrist, Asta carefully placed the Jötunn's gift back where it belonged. Turning to see the normally unflappable Hogun staring at her with his mouth open, she uncomfortably put a curl dropping into her eyes back into its plait.

"Why are you staring, Hogun?"

"How long have you been a master swordswoman, my Lady? Truly, you could rival Sif! How did we not know this?" Hogan was visibly excited and concerned, all at once.

"I'm not, not at all," laughed Asta, "I had a fencing instructor who..." She broke off as she realized the skill the sword allowed her. "It didn't come from me, Hogun. I have no skill in arms, truly. But... I _felt_ it, we moved together." The Princess looked up at the warrior who was still staring at her like she'd sprouted wings and a tail. The moment ended quickly as the clamor from the guards echoed through the castle. They raced from the vault and tore up the stairs, trying to find the closest vantage point to see what was happening.

A fearful shout. "There's a rabid wolf in the courtyard!"

"NO!" Screamed Frigga and Asta at the same time. "Do not touch that animal under pain of death!" the Queen's normally composed tone was hard and threatening. Asta turned from the window and kicked off her slippers to run faster, tearing down the hall to the opening to the gardens. There was a huge wolf, streaked in foam from its muzzle, its thick fur matted in dirt and blood. Skidding to a stop, the Princess dropped bonelessly to her knees, hands out in a cautious reach.

"My Intended." Asta's clear, sweet voice echoed in the sudden silence. "My beautiful husband. Do you see me?"

The wolf growled, eyes as gold as hers staring back. On her knees, Asta still had to look up at the exhausted creature, panting heavily.

"My Intended, will you come to our rooms? Let me bathe you and make you comfortable." She could see the wolf's ears relax upwards, the panting slowing a bit. Asta's eyes filled with tears as she saw his bloody paws. Clearly, her husband in this form must have run the length and breadth of the Nine Realms to come home. "I have missed you so," she whispered. The light sound of her words made the huge animal pad closer, ears cocked. "I knew you would come home to me, my Intended. Come, let me serve you now."

To a collective gasp, the wolf's hide rippled, and in its place was a filthy, naked Loki. Several guards rushed forward, but Asta angrily waved them off. He wearily raised his head, and her husband's beautiful eyes were emerald again. "Welcome back," she whispered.


	19. Am I A Monster Too?

In which Loki is laid bare.

Chapter Text

Asta stubbornly sent away Odin's military advisors demanding information, Hogun and Sif, and after an examination to make sure her husband wasn't seriously injured, the Healers. Watching her throw out the final intruders and lock the door behind them, Sif raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know the mouse had it in her," she mused. Hogun gave her a cool look of displeasure and walked away.

Turning and leaning back against the huge doors, Asta tried to refocus herself and schooled her expression into calm. "My husband, would you rather eat first or bathe?"

Loki was wrapped in a huge fur throw and stretching those ridiculously long legs toward the fire. Shuddering, he groaned, "Bathe. As starved as I am, I've never felt more disgusting." He watched his wife quickly draw him a warm bath, pouring in soothing oils and some crystals meant to speed healing on wounds. Standing painfully, Loki managed to taunt her as he headed for the bathing chambers. "The King will not be pleased with you darling, delaying him his news."

Gently pulling the fur from his bruised and battered body, Asta's amber eyes narrowed dangerously. "After risking your life- again- to seek information for Asgard, I'm sure the Allfather can allow you a minute to recover from weeks of battle and starvation."

"Ahhhh... I'd forgotten how this feels," the dark prince groaned. He watched as Asta dropped her dress from her shoulders and joined him in the water, clad only in her silk shift. "Are you trying to make me forget food and bathing first, wife?" he asked, a mischievous smile crossing his cracked lips.

She smiled. "Sit back, My Intended, let me care for you. All of Asgard can wait their turn." Heaving another exhausted groan, Loki obeyed, leaning back against her soft breasts as Asta curled her long legs around him. Just holding him for a moment, she waited as he finally slumped against her. Loki's eyes dropped shut the moment she began stroking a soapy sponge against the coating of filth and blood on his pale skin. It felt so good to have those hot little hands on his shaking body again, the prince simply luxuriated in being still as his wife bathed him. Asta tactfully started the water running again on their side of the huge pool while draining the filthy water out the other side. Feeling her fingers stroke the soap into his matted hair, Loki groaned again in relief. "I hope this is helping," she murmured, keeping her voice calm and even, not wanting to break the spell keeping her husband in her arms. "I know you hate being dirty as much as I do. Were you- were you in human form most of the time?"

His dark head shook. "Not after leading those damned Svartálfar away from the others. They managed to capture Fryktløs-" Asta's heart twinged as dark grief twisted her husband's mouth, she knew how close he'd grown to the magnificent creature. Her fingers kept moving through his hair soothingly, rubbing his scalp. "They won't kill him," he continued balefully, "they'll try to break him instead." She took a basin and filled it with clean water, leaning Loki's head back against her thigh to rinse the blood and mud from his inky strands. Collecting himself, her husband continued. "I changed to wolf form after that. Easier to hide and run."

Asta's hands slowed in shock. "You've been surviving as a wolf for the last _two weeks?"_ No wonder then, that it took him so long to recognize her and return to human form. No matter how skilled a shapeshifter, the more time spent in another form made it more and more difficult to change back. Quickly pulling towels, she stood and Loki tiredly rose from the water, allowing her to wrap his battered body in one, walking back into their main room. There was a huge array of food already laid on the table, steam rising from a roast and potatoes, fragrant fresh rolls and butter. She offered him a warm robe, slipping it over his shoulders before Loki seated himself, already digging into the meal in a famished way that showed he hadn't eaten well in a very long time.

Emerald eyes raising to meet hers, Loki smiled around a mouthful of meat. "You need to eat as desperately as I do, Pet." He significantly eyed the dress hanging off her slimmer frame. Asta blushed and ducked her head, pouring him a glass of wine.

"I haven't been sleeping much, that's all," she moved to bring him a platter of fruit and sweets and an extra napkin, tactfully not mentioning that his table manners apparently disappeared during his time as a four-legged predator, rather than a two-legged one.

One huge hand covered hers. "Darling, I'm fine. It's time for you to sit and eat with me." Loki's voice was firm, but not unkind, so Asta smiled and seated herself. She watched as her Intended plowed through nearly the entire platter of food and started on the desserts. She hid her smile and poured him another glass of wine. "What news from here?" he finally asked, beginning to slow down.

"The party traveling with you is back out and searching for you, along with your brother."

Loki scowled. "What a waste of manpower. As if I'd need their help getting home. Better that they were here, guarding the city." He looked up and paused midway through a chocolate tart. His wife was clearly enraged. "What?"

"What? WHAT?" Asta's voice was higher and more shrill than she intended. "Those fools left you after you saved them from that second battle group? You were on your own!"

One elegant brow arched, her husband looked amused. "My, my... what an angry dove I've left behind. Did you peck them on their return?"

Angrily sweeping away her plate, his wife planted her hands on the table and leaned over to face him. "Peck? They're lucky I didn't behead them myself for such cowardly foolishness, leaving their Prince to peril at the hands of those Svartálfar monsters! How dare they-"

Laughing, Loki pulled her mouth to his, kissing her soundly. "I see that 'dove' does not describe you. Perhaps 'she-wolf' is more apt."

Growling a little, Asta kissed him back, opening her mouth as his tongue slipped inside. As they came up for air, she hissed, "Whatever I must be, I will. But leaving you in peril means facing their own at my hand from now on..." She felt the vibrations of her husband's pleased growl against the thin skin of her throat as the Dark Prince kissed his way down her neck, roughly pulling aside her bodice to get to her breasts. Asta tried, she did- tried to sound responsible and concerned as she gasped, "Loki, your wounds- you need to let me dress them and-"

Hauling her none too gently out of her chair and to the bed, her Intended groaned, "Later, darling. You have other ways to serve me now."

Loki's head was spinning, and he forced himself to focus. Dreaming of this moment kept him from despair on many cold nights on the run from the murderous Dark Elves. He'd healed far more wounds than he'd admitted to the Healers, leaving his wolf form even weaker. But the scent of his wife- a light breeze of vanilla steeped in flower petals- drove him forward, even though he'd never admit it. Running his nose along her skin, the Dark Prince breathed her in greedily as his cut, bruised hands moved over her skin. They were sitting on the bed, both robes abandoned on the floor and legs tossed carelessly over the others to scoot closer. He felt her soft hands move over his jaw and through his long hair, scratching his scalp gently as they kissed. Loki smothered a grin as his formerly timid wife rose and landed directly into his lap, her silky pussy pushing against a rapidly stiffening cock. Taking her hand and putting it on the wet and eager apex between them, Loki murmured, "It seems you've missed me, Pet." He was about to continue to tease her and demand Asta call him "Daddy," but her tender kisses over his forehead, eyelids, down his jaw and sucking the skin of his neck gently into her mouth made him forget his games. Placing his hands on her hips,

Loki raised Asta gently above him, sliding her down his painfully engorged cock as her eyelids fluttered, trying to keep her eyes on his emerald ones. The feeling of those hot, soft lips parting for his chilled shaft was wildly arousing, and Loki forced himself to stop, knowing it must be hurting her. The agony of holding still as all those heated tissues fluttered invitingly against him was unimaginable, and he buried his face into her heaving breasts, trying to be still as Asta adjusted to him again. "Oh, My Lord..." she moaned blissfully. "I've missed you so..."

Chuckling, Loki smoothed his rough hands down her back, soothing her as he felt her clenching pussy relax a bit, allowing him to move within her. "Beautiful wife," he purred, "how good you feel on me. So soft." He thrust, enjoying her choking gasp. "So sweet," pushing harder, feeling her nails dig into his back. "So wet around me..." An especially hard thrust made her breath hitch in her throat, moaning blissfully as Loki filled her again and again. The Dark Prince's head was tipped back, enjoying the almost painful press of her silken walls against his dick. Asta wrapped her legs around his waist and squeezed closer with her strong legs, pressing her chest against his as their arms held the other. "I'm inside you," Loki purred, "to the hilt. And I only wish I could crawl inside you and feel the same thing my very fortunate cock is currently enjoying." It was true, he could feel the broad head of his shaft sliding through her cervix and into her womb. The thought of sending his seed there and putting a child in his wife was suddenly so arousing that Loki had to stop, clenching her tight against him to stop her movement. He could dimly hear Asta's soft, complaining whimpers, wanting to feel him thrust. The prince bit into her neck, eyes closed and trying to concentrate on the feel of her heat and tightness without coming. The walls surrounding him coiled, like a snake trying to curl around itself, and the rhythmic clench and release felt like her pussy was trying to pull the skin right off his shaft. Putting one huge palm on the base of her spine, Loki pushed her pelvis harder against him, feeling her pubic bone press into his groin. Slowly starting to move her again, he could still feel the coiling around his cock as he slid it through more and more moisture, the slick making the friction between them even hotter. Opening his eyes, Loki smiled darkly at her open mouth, trying to draw breath as he moved her. Kissing the bite mark he'd left on her throat, his emerald eyes moved down her long back and froze. Just as they had when he'd touched her metal womb, violet shadows were moving under his hand, creating an elaborate, repeating pattern that ran up and down her back as he stroked her skin. But this time, Loki recognized the pattern. It was his own.

Suddenly alarmed, he tried to remove his hands and take Asta off him, but deep into her own pleasure, she moaned and shook her head. "Please, please, my Intended! Please don't stop..." Her plea ended in a moan as her agile hips began circling over him. Sliding a hand over one buttock to help her, Loki looked down again, the obliging violet pattern following...darkening into his markings, then fading as his fingers moved on. His cock ignored his inner turmoil, still sliding smoothly in and out of her as Loki's eyes were glued on her soft skin. Experimentally, he ran his fingers from Asta's left shoulder, down her arm. There could be no mistake- the stipples and lines created by the violet shadows were identical to Loki's skin. In his Jötunn form. He should be horrified, the Dark Prince thought vaguely, disgusted. He should have pulled out of his wife and shoved her away from the monstrous thing he was. Maybe it was his exhaustion, the strange loneliness of the last weeks, maybe he was simply too desperate to feel Asta, but Loki didn't stop. Sliding both roughened palms on her ass, he pulled her hips up, then shoved her down on his cock harder, enjoying her pleased yelp. They moved faster together, the Prince still torn between the wild pleasure of being back inside the tight, clutching heat of his wife and the fascination of seeing himself patterned over her.

Listening to her breathing, his white teeth flashed, knowing that if he counted down, Asta would be wailing with pleasure. Feeling his wife realize the same and anxiously try to hold herself back, Loki held her tightly with one arm across her back, the other on her hip. "You may come." He ordered, "I will have it from you now." With a relieved moan, Asta shamelessly arched her back, rubbing her clitoris against the wiry hairs at the base of his shaft and came, crying out. She was unabashed, loud and enthusiastic in a way he'd never seen before and it tipped Loki violently into his own finish. His pleasure didn't stop, just cycling through his seed spreading through her womb, then roaring back into his pulsing cock and cycling again. Several minutes later, they both recovered their senses, still clutching the other, arms slipping against sweat-slick backs, long thighs sliding over her hips.

Loki's breathing began to slow as he still watched those violet shadows mark Asta as his, re-creating his markings down her ribs, even ridges as he kissed her cheek. He very nearly jumped when his wife spoke suddenly, her soft voice in his ear. "Now that you've seen mine, dear husband, will you not show me yours?" Dark brows drew together and her Intended tried to slip his arms from around her and move back, but Asta gently held on to his shoulders, looking up to Loki's alarm. "Like my dream on my third night here," she urged, "in the ocean? I asked you to let me see you then, and you said 'No.' Please, Loki, will you show me now?" Perhaps it was his exhaustion, the relief of being back in his wife's arms, his cock still inside her, but Loki actually weakened, and a spread of Jötunn blue crept across his arm. Impulsively, Asta did a very unlike Asta thing, and leaned down and licked it, tracing her tongue across the grooves and raised lines of his skin, feeling the chill across her lips. Loki jerked his arm away, defensive and shocked that he'd revealed himself. "I'm sorry," she apologized. "I just... wanted to see how you tasted as blue."

Staring down at her with a look of utter consternation on his handsome face, Loki suddenly broke into howls of laughter. "How I tasted? That was your main concern about being bound to a Jötunn?" His grin faded quickly, the old bitterness rising again. "A monster?"

Asta took one hand, placing it on her face, smiling as the shadows raised to meet his palm. "You are no monster. And now I am the same. Do I disgust you?" Her confidence faltered on the last sentence. Would he? Did her husband hate himself so much that her metamorphosis would force him to hate her as well?"

But Loki didn't pull away as she feared. "How long have you known?" His face was impassive again.

"The night after the Gifting Ceremony," she answered honestly, steeling herself for his anger.

His cool hands continued to slide restlessly over her skin. "How?" Loki's voice was sharp, but not unkind. Asta explained, still bracing for an explosion. His beautiful face was still, pale features set as he listened. The silence after she finished drew out, longer and longer. At last, Loki pushed her back on to the pillows. Giving her one last gaze, he put his face against her breasts, letting out a sigh that he felt he'd held forever and fell asleep. Asta's hands came up, gently running her fingers through his thick hair over and over until she, too, fell asleep.


	20. Like Some Superheated Monkey

In which Loki discovers it IS possible to have too much sex.

Chapter Text

The next weeks were perversely, the happiest of Asta's young life. Though the threat of war and the possibility of the End of All Things hovered over them, the moments spent with her husband erased everything else. Loki dutifully appeared before the War Council the following morning, Asta pleasantly ignoring the angry expression of the Allfather. While her husband had some very helpful information regarding the movements of the enemy, there was nothing that could be done about it. At least, not right away. So, the search party returned and life went on in Asgard, even as the shadow of the threat before them darkened the skies.

But the Prince and Princess of Asgard didn't notice it, too wrapped up within themselves to care, somehow. Loki visited the medicinal gardens with his wife, admiring the growth of the little sapling from the Tree of Life. He generously taught her more magic, and the two experimented with Frigga regarding new healing treatments. Everyone knew that as happy as this moment seemed, their skills would be tested soon enough. Asta began dreaming again, but blessedly, these were happy ones. She pursued small, delicate forms, dancing in the sunlight just ahead of her, laughing at Loki to catch up. And the dancing shadows stayed ahead of them, just barely out of reach. Every time the Princess would wake from one of these lovely dreams, her Prince was there to stroke her, caressing Asta's soft breasts and the space between her thighs until they opened to welcome him between them. Life was perfect.

One golden afternoon, Loki stood on a high balustrade and watched his wife run through the ornamental gardens, chasing a child of one of the local noblemen. The little boy was screaming with excitement as Asta laughed, teasing him with tickles if she caught him. Hogun stepped up to silently stand beside his Prince, watching the games in the garden. "She adores children," he commented, this time eyeing Loki.

"Certainly," his Prince pondered, watching his bride tear through the rows of daffodils, trying to catch the child. Clearing his throat, he called, "My Lady! Attend to me, please!" Asta looked up instantly, eyes widening to see her husband and Hogun watching them. She sent the child off with a kiss and hurried towards the stairs, brushing leaves out of her hair and pulling a necklace from her pocket, realigning it around her neck.

"Would that be the Star of Scorpios?" queried Hogun politely, "The irreplaceable jewel of the House of Asgard?"

A smile forced Loki's thin lips into a curve. "Indeed, Hogun. A necklace beyond value that my wife shoves into a skirt pocket."

The faintest bit of a smirk crossed the usually expressionless face of his friend. "We know then, that the Lady is certainly not interested in the vast and incalculable wealth of Asgard. Your charm..." he side-eyed Loki, "must be even more powerful than we knew."

The subject of their conversation appeared behind them, still tidying herself. "Sir Hogun," she nodded with a smile, then looking to Loki and clearly melting in adoration. "My Intended." Looking between them, Hogun's lips twitched and he bowed, taking his leave.

"Darling..." purred Loki, bending his dark head for a kiss. "You look absolutely delicious today." He enjoyed watching the flush of pleasure darken Asta's cheeks. While his wife could conduct state affairs with all the dignity required of her position, the girl could never seem to hide her emotions from him. Running one hand down her long neck, he enjoyed the violet shadows that eagerly followed his touch. Suddenly coming to a decision, Loki tiled her head up. "Take a ride with me, my Pet."

Following Loki, Asta felt a painful twinge of grief as she watched her husband ride a strong bay stallion. As noble a beast as he may be, the horse could never match up to Fryktløs. She knew her Intended missed his friend terribly, spending hours daily trying to track the movements of the treacherous Dark Elves, trying to discern where they would hide his legendary mount. They ended up at the secluded lake with a tiny waterfall keeping ripples moving across the cobalt surface of the water. Helping his bride down from her horse, Loki mischievously slid her down the long front of him, slowly, as to feel every hard muscle and long limb. "Thank you, My Lord," Asta said demurely, still smiling at her husband's endlessly seductive behaviors. He smiled down at her, brushing a long, slow kiss against her full lips. "As much as I adore your kisses, my Intended," she breathed against his mouth, "perhaps it would be easier to show me these wonders if your hands were off my bottom?"

Playfully showing his empty hands as proof of his innocence, Loki still stole another kiss before taking her hand and leading her to the waterfall. Reaching out her hand to touch the spray, Asta smiled, "It's so warm!"

Leaning over to kiss and nip at her neck, he explained, "The waterfall feeds the pond from a hot spring, rather than an aquifer. The water stays warm even in the deep of winter." As he spoke, she could feel his long, clever fingers unlacing the back of her dress. Sagging against him, Asta barely heard his whispered invitation. "Take a swim with me, little girl."

Allowing Loki to pull her dress from her, Asta looked around them. "You're sure that no one can see us here?" Her head dropped back with a sigh as his treacherous mouth played over her skin, enjoying his bride's involuntary shiver.

"I'll execute the first man to happen upon us," Loki assured, which of course did not comfort Asta at all. But as he drew her into the bath-warm waters, her lashes fluttered and she let out a moan of pleasure. But as they continued to swim and play with each other, the hot day took the refreshment from the warm water, adding to Asta's superheated temperature. When Loki drew her under the waterfall, he enjoyed watching her lovely face raise to the spray with a blissful smile. Suddenly, her amber eyes flew open as she felt a delicious chill against her back.

"Aaaaahhhh..." she barely managed to breathe her pleasure as icy fingers found her nipples, stroking them into tight little peaks. "You feel wonderful, my Intended," she sighed, her blazing skin cooling as long arms and legs surrounded her in the warm water.

"You may turn around." The deep, sonorous voice of her husband urged her, so Asta did. Loki's eyes were fiery red, gazing into hers as if he could read her every secret thought. His blue face ridged in elaborate patterns; his cruel, high cheekbones even more rigid. She could feel the raised markings of his broad chest against her sensitive nipples and it made her shiver with a lurid pleasure, wondering if his generous cock was also decorated in those thick, elevated designs.

His unfamiliar eyes watched warily as his wife carefully examined his changes into Jötunn, touching and stroking him curiously. Finally looking up into those ruby irises, Asta smiled lovingly. "Hello, husband. You're... you're so beautiful. More than I imagined." In sudden, intense relief Loki crushed her soft form against his frigid one, feeling those long, hot limbs wrap around him. They stayed tight against each other, the chilled arms and heated legs keeping the couple skin to skin. Loki found himself rocking his wife slightly, back and forth in the water. Looking down to see her lashes fanning her face with a dreamy smile on her lips, he kissed her with those dark blue lips against her pink ones, watching the violet shadows send a spray of lines and dots across her cheek. "It's like a constellation," she murmured against his lips, eyes still closed. "Like a constellation of stars in the night sky. I can feel it from the inside of my skin." Painfully aroused by her words, the Dark Prince lifted his wife higher, forcing her eyes open as he teased her with the head of his cock. The feel of his icy width just barely inside her heated opening was too much for Asta. "Please, don't make me wait." Her amber eyes gazed into his red ones. "Please... Daddy."

With a groan, Loki impaled her slowly on his frigid shaft. "You don't play fair, Pet." He scolded. A bubbling sound startled them as both stopped movement as steam rose from the water, wreathing around them. The prince began laughing. "We've created our own steam bath, little one." Hearing her high peals of laughter, Jötunn Loki pushed her back down on him, Asta moaning rapturously as she felt each delicious ridge of his cock gently scrape against her soft walls. As Jötunn, Loki was even bigger, painfully so but not enough for her to do anything but grit her teeth. As he started moving, the raised markings began to ripple against her blazingly hot tissues, making her wail into her first orgasm almost immediately. Loki prolonged it by bouncing her up and down on his swollen dick a few times as she clutched his chilly shoulders. Asta's forehead finally dropped to his shoulder, sending a blaze of heat down his back. "You've been a bad, little girl," he scolded, voice even deeper and sinister in his Jötunn form.

"How so?" she asked, shamelessly rubbing herself against him.

"You did not have permission to come," he growled, placing one hand hard her ass to hold her still.

"Please, Daddy. Perhaps let this transgression pass?" Asta pleaded manipulatively, "I couldn't know how good your- um, how good you would feel in blue."

Chuckling, still sounding ominous with his darker voice, Loki said, "how good my _what_ would feel, little one?"

"You know..." she mewled, still trying to make him move inside her again.

"I don't," was the malevolent reply, his frozen hand keeping her still.

"Your... ah..." Asta was trying to pay attention, but that thick, arctic staff inside her was painfully good against the coiling heat of her pussy, and she wanted nothing more than to feel those ridges scrape against her again.

A huge indigo hand took her chin and forced it upwards, making her stare into those knowing red eyes again. "Tell me, little girl. Or Daddy takes away your toys."

"That's not fair, Daddy!" Now Asta was nearly frantic, clinging to him like some superheated monkey, demanding attention.

This was so bizarrely arousing that Loki felt himself growing even harder, with an answering moan of desire mixed with discomfort from his wife, still trying to rub against him. "Tell Daddy what you want and I'll let you have it."

The combination of frigid Jötunn Loki, the steam still rising in a cloud around them, the twitching aftereffects of her first orgasm on that exotic, chilly cock and her sudden need for more made the reserved girl behave quite unlike herself. "You let me have it, Daddy!" she hissed like a spoilt child, "You let me have your cock right now!" She could feel his body shake against hers in laughter and it made Asta unreasonably furious. Dipping her head to one blue nipple, she bit at it sharply, tightening her legs around his ridged and dotted torso again. "AHHH! Daddy!" she hissed when Loki slapped her ass hard, three strikes on each cheek.

"No biting, you bad little girl." Despite the pain that hateful bite must have caused his sensitive nipple, Loki didn't seem angry. "Say you're sorry."

"Sorry..." came the sulky reply. Asta knew she was behaving like a spoiled little monster, but the hormones swarming over her brain were making her nearly insensible with need.

"Like you mean it."

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry Daddy! May I please have your cock again!" Even with the unattractive whine, his wife's needy voice was ridiculously erotic and with a groan, the huge blue entity gave in, lifting her and bouncing Asta up and down on his shaft, enjoying her rapturous shrieks as she came again and again, steam swirling between them from the surface of the pond.

Loki woke up that night to the insistent lips of his wife's mouth around his cock. Barely stirring, he stroked her thick hair as his lower half went wide awake in an instant. Opening his eyes, returned to their translucent emerald, the Dark Prince watched with mild surprise as Asta climbed on top of him, carefully sliding him inside her. Hands going to her hips to guide her, Loki just enjoyed the sensation of her pelvis circling against him before lifting her up to slide back down again. "My darling," he chuckled, "you were in so much discomfort this afternoon I wasn't sure I'd ever be allowed inside this heated little quim again."

It was true, Asta's extreme enthusiasm for her husband's body-particularly his icy, ridged cock-in Jötunn form meant she'd not given enough time to prepare herself for his shaft- an even larger size as a Jötunn. Loki blamed himself for the fact that he hadn't remembered either. Asta's usually stoic self was nearly in tears halfway through their ride back to the castle, and he'd finally taken her off her horse and held her sidesaddle against him. After a dinner eaten hovering just over the surface of her seat, Asta gave in and let Loki rub some soothing cream on her afflicted nether regions, which led to a round of licking and sucking against said regions...which led to another appreciative round of licking and sucking of _his_nether regions. But here they were again, he mused, flipping his wife over onto her stomach and sliding back in from behind her. With a long moan, she arched her back, pushing back against him and her husband watched the glistening length of him slide in and out of her pussy. "Are you ready to come, little girl?" Asta heard his dark voice in her ear, reminding her of how much deeper and threatening it sounded that afternoon. "My voice was different?" She realized she'd said her thoughts out loud, and the girl blushed.

"Yes. Deeper, just a touch of a growl. Almost sinister- oh!" Asta gasped against a particularly hard thrust. "It was like-" Thrust. "Like-" This time Loki maliciously thrust and circled his hips at the same time, making his cock rub sharply against her soft spot of nerves inside.

"Like what, darling?" Came his low and sinuous query, knowing that his wife was helplessly aroused by that she called his "sex voice."

"Like... mmmmm... please do that again! Like... I was with you, but with a different man at the same time." she admitted, "I felt very naughty."

"Really..." That voice again, along with a rough thumb that started tapping against her clitoris. Loki's brow rose. His usually easy-going wife had adamantly refused to allow one of his clones to join them in bed. Maybe it was time to try that particular kink again. Paying attention again to her moan's rapidly rising pitch, her dark husband chuckled and soothed, "You may come." Clamping down on him in a way that forced his orgasm too, his obedient wife did just that.

As it happened, Asta's increased desire for her husband was not a one-time thing. While Loki always loved pulling his luscious wife aside two or three times a day to slide back into her, this was becoming very nearly too much, even for him. The Dark Prince stubbornly attributed it to the exhaustion of his survival while making his way back home, but he was beginning to use that soothing cream on himself as well. Still, the sight of Asta's beautiful eyes glowing gold as she appealed to him with kisses and sly strokes down the front of his pants, he could never deny her. Finally falling asleep mid-sentence during a discussion of border security with Odin and two generals from the Allfather's army, Loki woke to find only his father still in the room, an amused twinkle in his single blue eye. "You seem exhausted, my son." the man commented, watching his son straighten hastily in his chair.

With only a half finished "NOT my-" thought, Loki wearily rubbed his eyes. "Not at all. Just resting my eyes."

The half-stifled chuckle made his head shoot up in astonishment. In his nearly 1,700 years, he could never remember Odin actually laughing. "It seems that your marriage is quite...passionate, Loki. It reminds me of the first 1,000 years of my union to your mother."

"Please," the Dark Prince groaned, "please don't make me picture my mother like... just don't." Looking up to see the Allfather's raised brow, he wisely shut up.

"It does occur to me," Odin huffed slightly as he rose from the head of the table, "that the Lady Asta's... fondness for you does remind me of your mother's whilst with child. Perhaps a visit to the Soul Forge is in order." Roughly patting Loki's shoulder, the King swept from the room.

"But why are we visiting the Healers?" Asta queried, confused that her husband had literally swept her off her feet and away from a group of giggling courtiers at lunch. "I'm perfectly well, my Intended. My beautiful, lovely husband..." Loki groaned as her soft lips began stroking down his neck, adding a nibble every now and then from those sharp little teeth. His left nipple twinged at the memory of those biting down on him in Jötunn form. He still bore a circular scar, which he refused to remove with magic because he enjoyed his wife's guilt every time she saw it.

"I wanted to simply ascertain something, darling. It won't take a moment." Loki gave her his most sensual smile, knowing it would distract her from any more questions. As his wife eased on to the examination table, she smiled at him lovingly. When the Soul Forge started its glowing circuit, he leaned in to see what the Healers were currently tracking. As he watched the star-like forms tremble inside Asta's abdomen, he wept for the first time since discovering his Jötunn heritage.

"Congratulations," the Healer spoke with a huge smile for them both. "The Lady Asta is with child. With twins. They are both male."

Asta was absolutely still for a moment, then started sobbing, reaching her arms up for her husband. Loki lifted her from the table and buried his face in her soft hair. He'd never let himself think of having children, not really. The vast number of variables and the awful feelings from his own parentage always made him push the concept away. So, Loki was shocked at the sheer joy blazing its way through his heart. "You are giving me sons, my beautiful wife. My beautiful, wonderful Asta..." He covered her wet face with kisses. Looking up to see the Healer's head lowered politely, he managed to ask, "how far along in the pregnancy is the Lady Asta?"

"Ten weeks, Your Grace." Her weathered face spread into a broad smile, too excited to control it. It had been so very long since Asgard had celebrated a Royal pregnancy.

Loki and Asta looked at each other, overcome. Leaning in to whisper in his ear, she said, "The night you returned to me, it must be."

Caging her face in his large, cool hands, Loki kissed his wife again, a long, sweet kiss filled with everything he wanted to say. "It must be," he whispered back. Standing in the silver glow of the Soul Forge and staring into her tear-filled eyes, he blurted it out with none of the suave sophistication that always couched his words. "I love you, wife. I love you so very much."


	21. I'm Your First In Something, At Least

In which Asta outwits Loki, and then Loki outwits her back.  
And Thor is left polishing his Mjölnir.

Chapter Text

The celebration upon the news of the Royal Pregnancy was massive, rippling across all the Nine Realms. People were so starved for good news while laboring under the threat of Ragnarok, that the announcement of the twin boys made them somehow legendary before they'd even left Asta's womb. No one, of course, was happier than Loki and his pregnant bride. Walking through the Memorial Gardens one morning, he'd stop a giggling Asta every few feet and fall to his knees, kissing her small bump and whispering to his sons as she gently stroked his hair. Finally finished lavishing kisses on his wife's belly, Loki continued to lead her through the gardens. Since Aseir royalty was burned on funeral pyres at sea as their souls soared to Valhalla, there was no graveyard as such. But the Memorial Gardens gave family and friends a place to remember loved ones with exquisitely carved statues in their likeness. Asta listened with pleasure as her husband's deep, sonorous voice told her stories about past heroes and kings. "I know this woman," she said, stopping in front of a marble likeness of a superb warrior with a bow and arrow.

Loki's brow rose. "Indeed? This is Aurora, one of the first guardians of Asgard. How do you know her?"

Asta smiled, touching the marble face gently. "She's a Progeny, we always recognize our own. She was gifted to the General of Asgard's army during the 1,000 Year War."

"You're correct," Loki was impressed, "the Lady Aurora helped turn the tide of the final battle and was one of the chief negotiators for the peace treaty." Continuing on, he looked down fondly at the lovely face of his wife. If possible, the Progeny was even more alluring with child, glowing as if she was lit from within. Stopping in front of a charcoal granite monument, his face darkened. "This is Princess Astrid."

"She's beautiful," Asta commented, smoothing a hand along the figure, laying on her side with one hand draped over her stomach. "Who was she?"

Loki's voice grew colder. "Astrid is Odin's younger sister. She was captured during the Ice War. She died in Jotunheim before she could be rescued."

"How very sad," Asta's amber eyes filled, another side effect of her pregnancy. Everything, good or bad, brought her to tears. Trailing a finger over Astrid's hand, she wondered at the carving. It looked so much like her own hand would, protectively covering her abdomen. She wanted to ask more about Loki's -at least in name- aunt, but she saw the storm clouds crossing his face and walked along. Loki seemed to recover quickly, as around the next corner he pushed her into a little alcove and began devouring her lips greedily. He nearly chuckled to feel his wife's breathing instantly speed up as her pregnant body warmed to his, standing on tiptoe to press her tongue into his mouth.

As his long, clever fingers began loosening her bodice, they heard an irritated shout from Thor. "By Mjölnir! Please take your bride to your OWN chambers, Brother! Do not mark yet another garden! Soon there'll be no place with vegetation we can walk that doesn't have your particular stamp!" Asta dropped her head into Loki's chest, breaking out in helpless laughter.

Loki irritably re-tied his wife's dress as he shouted back, "Perhaps you should spend less time polishing your... Mjölnir and find your _own_ woman to court, Brother!" Even Asta had to howl at that, and her brother in law stomped off in a huff.

Falling back on their bed, the Princess kept a grip on Loki's shirt, trying to hold him to her as he attempted to pull her dress off. He groaned, feeling her warm little hands holding both sides of his face, drawing the dark prince in over and over as she kissed his cheekbones, his nose, angular chin, and lips. "This room is like a furnace," growled Loki. "If this weather persists, the dungeon will be the only place cool enough where I'll be able to have your lovely little quim."

It was true- the strange heat and drought tasking Vanaheim had found a way to Asgard, despite their powerful controls over the weather.

Asta eyed her husband's scowl for a moment, biting her lip. "I am even warmer with your sons inside me," she murmured, fluttering her eyelashes at him. Loki's brow arched as he watched his innocent wife attempt to manipulate him, apparently forgetting she was married to the God of Lies.

"Poor, poor darling," he purred, leaning closer. "And what can Daddy do to help you?"

'And the trap springs,' she thought victoriously. "You could ease my suffering if you were to-" Asta hesitated, biting her lip again.

What he considered her feeble attempts at manipulation forgotten, Loki only heard the word "suffering." Running a cool hand over her forehead, he said, "You have only to ask, darling, and it is yours."

Asta smiled sweetly, kissing the palm against her flushed cheek. "Could you lay with me in your Jötunn form?" Loki scowled as he saw the trap she'd set for him. His wife had shyly requested several times to have sex with him "in blue," but he'd adamantly refused. His feelings were still so conflicted about this heritage forced on him, and he didn't want to hurt his wife again.

"Asta," he said sternly. "You've forgotten the terrible pain you were left in that day at the waterfall?"

"We'll go slower this time," Asta pleaded, kissing her way down his tightened jaw. "And there is that wonderful cream of yours..." Sensing that he was wavering, her huge amber eyes gazed at him beseechingly. "Please, my Intended?"

Realizing he'd been outwitted by his deceptive spouse, Loki gave in with poor grace, tearing her dress off and flipping her over on to her belly. Nonetheless, Asta moaned in gratitude as his huge, icy hands slid up her hips, lifting them and spreading her knees. Embarrassed at being so on display, the Princess tried to shift her legs until Loki's grip tightened. She gasped as his frigid tongue began tracing her swollen pussy from behind. "Ooooo..." she moaned, "thank you, Daddy..." Loki's red eyes were slitted as he grinned against her pussy. Damn her, Asta would get her way, and she would get him to enjoy letting her have it.

This time, Jötunn Loki did take his time preparing Asta, even when she begged him to take her. "Please, Daddy," she moaned, "I can't take any more, please put yourself inside meeee..." He'd already brought her to three orgasms with icy fingers and chilly tongue, and still, those long legs locked around his waist, hopeful he'd relent soon.

Sliding that huge, ridged cock just to the entrance of Asta's desperately slick pussy, Loki spoke into her ear, his deeper, harsher tone rumbling down her spine. "Do you want this, my angel?"

"Yes, please Daddy!"

Loki's dark chuckle would ordinarily put Asta on high alert, but she was too far gone, pregnancy hormones and the desire for what her husband had refused her was too much. "How badly do you want my blue cock inside that sweltering little quim?"

Asta's heels scrabbled for purchase on his taut buttocks, trying to press him into her. Loki refused her feeble attempts, idly circling his thick staff just barely inside her. As she made some random noise of confusion, his polar fingers slid down her belly to her clit, tapping it idly. "What would you do for me, little girl? What would you give your Daddy?"

"Anything! Please, please Daddy! I need your- your cock, I'll give anything you wish!"

Above her shaking body, Loki gave an unholy grin. He'd be winning today's game after all. "I'll be collecting on that later, BabyGirl," he hissed, just as his ridged dick finally began sliding into his grateful wife's pussy. 'A threesome with two of me it is,' Loki thought gloatingly before focusing on attending to Asta's pleasure.

Having finally exhausted his wife into near insensibility, the Dark Prince carried her into the bathing chamber and placed her in a cool bath, resting her on his lap. Asta revived somewhat as Loki was running a sponge over her skin, littered with bruises and bites. "Thank you," she sighed happily, tucking her head under his chin. Brow raised at the marked map of rougher Johtunn sex across her body, Loki grunted and continued caring for her. "Husband? May I ask you a question?"

Pulling her leg up to run the sponge along it, he kissed the top of her head. "Of course, darling."

"How... um, how many times have you been with a woman in Jötunn form?"

The hand stroking her leg paused. Asta looked up, apprehensive she'd pushed him too far. "I've never," Loki answered slowly. "I killed the assassin the moment I shifted that first time. I thought she'd managed to place a curse on me."

Asta refused to let her sorrow show. She knew her proud husband would hate it, even though the thought of discovering something so devastating in such a terrible way was the worst thing she could imagine. Instead, she shifted to sit behind Loki, smoothing her hands along his broad shoulders and beginning to shampoo his hair.

"Good." Asta said, "I'm glad."

"You're GLAD?" He was astonished.

"Mmmhmmm," she agreed, hands still stroking over his sensitive scalp. "It means I was your first. It's just...nice to be your first in something, after you being my first in well...everything, really." A reluctant smile crossed Loki's thin lips, and he settled in to enjoy his wife's minstrations. He found he was pleased he could give Asta that, at least.


	22. Please, Please Don't Go

In which all those we love are in utter despair.

Notes:

Big, gigantic enormous trigger warnings here. This is the hardest chapter I've ever written, but there IS A PLAN. Trigger warnings for miscarriage and child death. Once again, I have a plan. Do not ALL my stories have happy endings?

Chapter Text

No matter how happy Loki and Asta could be with each other, the long shadow of Ragnarok still stretched over Asgard. With more cities and towns there and in Vanaheim feeling the effects of the drought and strange heat, Thor and Loki were sent out on mission after mission. The latter on intelligence-gathering trips, and the former out to "knock some heads together," as Thor was so fond of saying. For Asta, these trips were agony, constantly thinking of her husband in possible peril. She and Frigga began traveling, visiting the hardest-hit areas with supplies and assistance. To the Progeny's surprise and embarrassment, she was hailed joyfully as they entered each new city, sometimes even more than the AllMother. Leaning close during one especially loud greeting, she asked her mother in law, "Why are they cheering? I've done nothing."

Frigga smiled at her, brushing some of the rose petals the crowd was throwing out of Asta's hair. "But you have. You bring hope." Seeing her confusion, the Queen laid a gentle hand on the swell of Asta's belly. "Children are hope that life continues on. For the Asgardian Prince and Princess to share their joy- well, it is the kindest thing you can offer now." Nodding and smiling, the girl stepped down from the carriage and began greeting the people there. The visits seemed to help, there was less of the random violence and fear that troubled the countryside, and the two made plans to visit Vanaheim next to offer support.

Asta's dreams about those laughing, shining forms continued, but she could feel herself drawing closer and closer to them- as if they were scampering just around the corner and she was nearly within arm's reach. Loki was there too, lifting her over obstacles or taking her hand to move along faster. He was always laughing in those dreams, unguarded grins and just as excited as she was. Waking from those golden moments were the happiest of her day, and she always willed herself to visit them again every night as she fell asleep.

Frigga and Asta were meeting together in the Queen's huge drawing room, laying out some plans on how to help Vanaheim when the horns first sounded. The breath caught in Asta's throat- those horns sounded an alarm, not a homecoming. One look at her mother in law's white face confirmed it. The two dashed out the door, racing down the endless hallways to push to the front of the crowd in the courtyard. Loki's horse was first, the animal covered in mud and sweat, and his master holding a huge, bulky burden in his arms. "THOR!" Frigga's customary calm under all circumstances vanished, and she literally shoved aside a guard to run nearly under the hooves of Loki's horse. Her youngest slid off, still holding his gigantic brother.

"He is gravely wounded," Loki said shortly, beginning to stride into the hall when the Healers arrived with a stretcher,

Frigga swooped over her fallen son as the Healers laid him on the conveyance, trying to staunch the bleeding. "How!" The Queen was focused again, running her smooth hands over her firstborn's bloody chest.

"Betrayal," was the clipped answer, "he took an ax to his chest, along with three barbed arrows, laced with some kind of poison." A shudder went through the crowd as everyone heard Loki's words. Beginning to race Thor down the hallway to the Soul Forge, the Healers were firing questions back and forth, but Loki stopped for a moment, grasping Asta's upper arm. She nearly stepped back, seeing the blazing face and feral green eyes of her husband. He yanked her close and spoke into her ear. "The sapling, wife. You must get it."

Swiftly pressing a kiss to his mud-covered cheek, his bride turned and raced away. Gritting her teeth as her feet flew down the paths of the medicinal garden, Asta began to curse herself for her soft living since discovering she was with child. Finally dropping to her knees, the girl waved away the concealing spell and looked at the little tree. It was growing nicely, with three little branches, sporting leaves of a deep, translucent blue. Murmuring a prayer of gratitude to the generosity of the Ljósálfar Queen, Asta carefully cut a branch, tucking it in her pocket before chanting the concealing spell again. 'Really,' she thought irrationally, 'I must get more exercise, this is pitiful.' Putting a hand against the blazing stitch in her side, the Princess tore out of the garden and back into the castle. Loki was pacing in front of the Soul Forge as Frigga and the Healers hovered over Thor. The glow from the Forge sent the blood and dirt covering his face and armor into sharp detail. Looking up, he was at her side in an instant. "You have it?" he asked hoarsely.

Nodding vigorously, Asta glanced at the others. "Help me," she said quietly, "over here." The two moved to a nearby table where Asta nimbly chopped the little branch into a fine powder, then carefully wrapping it in the shimmering blue leaf. Placing their hands on the small bundle, the two concentrated all their healing strength into the poultice before taking it to the examination table where Thor lay still. Asta had never seen her brash and boisterous brother in law anything but, well...loud. The pale and silent bulk before her was terrifying.

"Mother," Loki cut through the agitated chatter, looking directly into Frigga's eyes and speaking in his most clear and authoritative voice. "Do you trust me, Mother?"

Frigga's hands were shaking, and Asta didn't think the Queen knew there was a steady stream of tears pouring down her high cheekbones, but she answered him instantly. "Of course."

"Then have the Healers stand down. Just for a moment."

The Healers were naturally reluctant to leave their fallen Prince, but a furious wave from their Queen was enough. Asta was already at Thor's side, carefully lifting the bloody bandages and examining the wound. Loki was surely correct: the axe wound alone would not have caused the God of Thunder's terrible state, but it was fatally deep, and the edges of the wound were turning black and rotting from the poisoned barbs. Reverently opening her little bundle, Asta spread the finely chopped contents throughout the wound, then covered it with the leaf. The translucent blue vegetation had more than tripled in size since she snipped it from the precious tree, and it covered the huge wound easily. "Your hands, my Queen, please!"

Loki placed one hand by his mother's shaking ones, another by the soothing ones of his wife. The three sent everything they had in healing magic through the God of Thunder's body. It took a very long time, much longer than Asta thought she could bear, but she held steady, watching the set countenance of her husband. The Allfather finally slammed through the door, nearly breaking their concentration, but Frigga looked up to see the bellowing countenance of Odin and spoke one word. "Hush!" She hissed between her gritted teeth, and her husband instantly did so, heavily dropping into a nearby chair. The three felt it before the readings of the Soul Forge showed it, felt the tattered edges of Thor's soul still holding to his massive body begin to slide back into place, the rotted tissue healing and closing itself. And finally, his mighty heart began to beat again.

"This cannot be..." Whispered the Head Healer. "He was _gone_! The Prince had fallen!"

Asta respectfully stood aside as Odin approached the bed, grasping his wife's hand and placing the other on Loki's broad shoulder. She intended to draw back to allow the family a moment of privacy, but her Prince took her arm again, bringing her back to the bedside. The four heads bowed over the restored body of the God of Thunder and rejoiced.

"It seems we have much to discuss," said Frigga dryly after Thor was determined stable and everyone had a chance to wash off the blood. Loki and Asta sat in front of her like guilty children, holding hands and not quite meeting her eyes. The Princess was deeply grateful that her mother in law had not included the Allfather in the conversation.

Loki sighed, rubbing his eyes with a cut and bruised hand. "What did you tell Odin?" He managed a sly smile for his mother, "it had to have been spectacular to merit this conversation alone."

His mother gave the fond glance with a wry twist of her full mouth that he'd seen so many times in his youth. "Never mind, son. I suspect this miracle has something to do with a hidden pocket of subspace in my Medicinal Garden?" Asta's mouth dropped open. They'd been so careful! Loki, who'd long ago accepted that there was no corner of the galaxy safe from the Queen's all-seeing gaze, merely shook his head.

"Of course, you'd know, Mother." He chuckled. Looking at Asta, Loki nodded to her with a smile.

Facing her mother in law's firm gaze was more uncomfortable than she expected, but the girl cleared her throat and explained about the gift of the little sapling from the Light Elves, a gift of incalculable value. "I was not sure it would save him, Allmother," she admitted. "We had to hope it was not Thor's time to ascend to Valhalla."

"Thank the Nornir, it was not," Frigga said fervently. "So, this incredible miracle was kept secret from me...why?"

Loki answered; his face cold. "The Tree of Life is not a tool. Not to bargain or threaten. Odin must never know." Asta looked at his set expression, then that of her mother in law, looking equally as stern. But Frigga nodded first, saying nothing else. Kissing Asta and then her son, she led them to the door.

"I know you must be eager to be alone. I'll have dinner sent to your chambers." But before the couple could turn to leave, her strong arms suddenly seized them both in a painfully tight hold. "Y-you restored my son to me," Frigga barely managed. "You saved my child."

Slowly moving over his wife in their bed, much later, Loki gazed down at her lovely face, she was smiling with the pleasure of being joined with him. He was beaten and bloodied in that battle, but the horror of seeing his invincible brother lying sprawled on the ground, blue eyes staring blankly at the sky was the most unimaginable thing he could witness. His muscles were screaming now, after the effort of holding his gigantic sibling as he urged his horse into a gallop at the battle site. Heimdall had barely managed to open the Bifröst in time. Gathering Asta more firmly in his arms, long fingers slipped down to play with her clitoris, helping her slip into a long, slow orgasm with him. Still entwined and panting, Loki covered her face with kisses. "Beautiful wife," he murmured, "I have thought of nothing but you these past days." It was true. Lying together in that muddy trench with Thor was _hideous_. The God of Thunder insisted on methodically going through each and every one of his sexual conquests as Loki groaned at every story. Thor only made things worse with his clumsy attempts to extract tales of Loki's adventures, not so subtly trying to lead him to mention Asta.

"I dreamt of you every night," she confessed, running her warm little fingers over his bruised chest. "I would see our sons, running just ahead of us- you would take my hand and it seemed we would almost catch them." Asta smiled blissfully as her husband tenderly kissed the top of her head. "I know we'll see their beautiful faces soon."

"I am certain," Loki assured her, smiling down at her confidence.

Later that night, Asta sat up in bed abruptly. "OH!" She gasped, placing both hands on the small swell of her stomach. Loki was instantly awake, his battle sensibilities already in action.

"What? Darling, are you well-"

"Shhhhh," Asta whispered, "I'm sorry to startle you, but here..." Carefully placing her husband's large palms on her abdomen, she giggled to see they covered the entire surface. "Wait, my Intended, just wait a moment..."

Then, he felt it. The Dark Prince of Asgard, the God of Lies, the Jötunn pretender to the throne began to weep. The tiny kicks of his sons tickled along his sensitive palms. "So strong..." he marveled, as Asta kissed his face over and over. When the movement of their twins had ceased and their tiny bodies relaxed in sleep, Loki took his wife again in slow and tender worship, running his roughened fingers over her warm, lithe body in gratitude of the gift she had so happily given him.

All of Asgard rejoiced again, hearing the news of the miraculous recovery of the God of Thunder. The talk was confident, citizens proud and feeling invincible, much as the firstborn. Thor was perfectly happy to stroll through the streets of the Capitol City, wildly waving Mjolnir. Flocks of women fluttered to his side, literally begging to help him "recover" from his grievous wounds. Truth be told, it was nearly impossible for the man himself to believe how badly he'd been injured- even though snippets of Death reaching for him still tortured his subconscious. "I have you to thank, don't I?" He asked in a rare moment alone with Asta. They were standing outside the towering doors of the Great Hall, waiting for their announcement. Loki, of course, was deliberately late, enjoying the irritation it caused the Allfather. Looking up from brushing her skirt into smooth lines, his sister in law looked at him in surprise.

"In truth?" She answered, "Your thanks must go to your brother. He plucked you from the battlefield and carried you here. Loki was the one to remember the cure to save you."

His blonde brow furrowed. "I- I remember you," Thor said thoughtfully. "My brother was there, and Mother. But I remember you spreading something on my chest. The pain was- unfathomable...until your hands touched me. I remember that." He finished defiantly, looking down into Asta's sincere face.

"Brother," she sighed, taking his huge hand in hers and patting it. "We all stood over you, draining everything within us to save you. I am so very grateful it was not your time to enter Valhalla."

Thor carefully squeezed the smaller hands in his. "And I am grateful as well, dear Asta." He raised one slim hand to his lips before she pulled it back.

"Brother..." came the icy tones of Loki. "You must be feeling better; you're making advances on my wife again."

Asta closed her eyes wearily. Of course, her husband would come at that moment.

The doors flung open before more taunts could be thrown, and the three entered the huge hall, smiling and acting as the very best of friends. The cavernous room was crowded beyond capacity that night, everyone eager to see the miraculous recovery of the Crown Prince of Asgard and the loving family who saved him. The cheers were deafening, Asta thought, forcing herself to keep the smile glued to her lips as they entered. Loki's hand was tight on hers, betraying his irritation at his brother's hopeless longing after his wife. The cheering had just died down, Odin ready to speak, when it began.

First was the thick, black smoke, forcing everyone to choke and vomit in a desperate need to remove the foulness from their lungs. In the sudden dimness, Asta gasped and called out as her hand was ripped from Loki's. She couldn't see- she didn't know who hands were on her, only that they dragged her away as she fought with all the strength in her body. When the room cleared a bit, the Princess realized with horror who held her- the demon King Surtur grasping one hand, and the horrid Dark Elf she'd danced with at her wedding feast at the other. 'What was his name?' Asta thought frantically as if that would make sense of the invasion. A dark and teeth-shattering hum rose from the stone floors as the intruders created a force field- a barrier between themselves and the horrified Aesir.

"Greetings, my friends." The smooth tones of the King of the Dark Elves dripped in savage satisfaction, striding to the forefront to smile mockingly on the horrified Royal Family on the other side of the barrier. "You just couldn't believe in your arrogance that the End of All Things could possibly come, could you?"

Asta could dimly hear the shouts and screams from the other side, Thor desperately throwing Mjolnir at the force field, over and over as Loki sputtered with light and deep magics. King Angrim chuckled at their desperation. "Too arrogant to listen to reason, weren't you? Very well, we shall have Ragnarök and rule what is left without you. But first..." To Asta's horror, his vicious gaze fell on her. "But first we require a small contribution from the House of Odin. A little tribute." His black gaze filled the Princess with an unreasoning terror and she struggled harder against the cruel grasp that held her pinned. Angrim strolled over, idly cupping her cheek in one hand until Asta viciously bit it, prompting an angry slap. She could hear the rage of her husband, flashes of green and sparks flashing wildly around him as he sought to break the barrier. "We can't have your precious little Progeny have these children. That would be...inconvenient to our purpose."

'No- no nononono! They cannot mean it!' Asta screamed in her head, 'they would not-"

But they could, it seems. The horrid shadow of the Dark Elves' King poured over her as Surtur and Prince Andreas-'that was his name', she thought dazedly, 'that was it-' forced her on to her back on the stone floor, the Demon King briskly kicking her with his hobnail boot as she fought him. King Angrim stood over her, smiling down in a parody of fondness. "Hello, darling," he soothed. "I fear that which is currently blocking your womb is an inconvenience to me. You must be filled with _my_ children to bring the final end." He chuckled coldly. "I do hope this isn't too painful for you..."

It was a nightmare that none who witnessed could ever forget, the Princess screaming and fighting with every molecule of her strength as his cold hands pressed to her pregnant belly. It took six men to hold her down long enough for his dark work to be done. Asta screamed, "Please, PLEASE don't go! Please don't go!" On the other side of the force field, Loki's magic slashed green sparks and wild energies off the barrier as he howled, "Take me instead! Take ME!" The Dark King's cruel magic did its work- taking the fragile souls from Asta's protective womb, everyone watching as the twin silver lights rose to the ceiling and vanished. A combined wail of anguish, horror and grief rose as one from the mouths of Loki and Asta, and as everyone watched, the brutal raiding party mocking waved goodbye and vanished, taking the unconscious Princess Asta with them.


	23. Do Your Worst

In which Loki takes action and Asta discovers the Dark King's true intent.

Notes:

You still with me? Everyone take a deep breath. There is a plan, remember?

Trigger warnings for violence against women and animals. This is where the story gets tough to handle, but I have to show Asta's strength against terrible, terrible odds. I've tried to keep this as non-horrible as possible, but fair warning.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Even with the tens of thousands of shocked witnesses in the Great Hall, it was eerily quiet, as if the stunned populace were still frozen in the horror of the moment. The weeping from Frigga and her sons was painfully audible. Loki's legs suddenly gave way and he sat abruptly on the stone floor, glazed eyes still fixed on the scorched spot where his wife and children were stolen from him. Odin stood motionless, mouth opening and closing as if he could not process the terrible violation. The evidence of the desperate attempts to save her covered the hall- gigantic cracks in the stone from Loki's magics, scorch marks blazing across walls and the soaring ceiling. Thor's repeated strikes with Mjölnir crushed an entire wall, though it never broke through the barrier. The remains of shattered swords and arrows burned by hitting the force field lay among the stunned guards. And still, the Princess and her precious cargo were gone.

Asta woke as she was brutally dropped to a stone floor, landing painfully on her empty abdomen. Moaning, she forced her arms under her to push up, trying to look around her. The cell was murky, lit by blacklight and the reverse moon she could barely glimpse through the barred window. The gurgling chuckle behind the Princess warned her she wasn't alone, and Asta rolled over, bracing herself against a wall. The Demon King was sitting on the room's only furnishings, a cot. "The finest Progeny in 5,000 years, they said." He stood, his hobnail boots clacking across the rock floor. "She will birth The Twins, the Two Towers." Surtur threw back his gruesome head, spit and bile spraying as he laughed mockingly. "Look at you now. When the Elf is finished with you, I'll take what's left."

"Pathetic," Asta managed to hiss. "You will die screaming in Ragnarök, flames strong enough to consume even filth like you. You all live in madness."

With another bloody sounding chuckle, Surtur kicked her in the side, the distinct snap of ribs sounding as she flew across the floor. "We shall see, Progeny."

Lying on her side in the darkness, Asta stared unseeingly at the door to her cell. She lay curled in on herself, arms still wrapped around the void of her abdomen. She barely felt the pain of the broken ribs, nothing compared to the agony of what happened that day. "Please come back, please come back, pleasecomeback..." Asta whispered over and over, her lips still forming the words when her voice gave out. The door finally slammed open, two men from the Dark Elves Royal Guard came in, yanking her to her feet. Asta bit back a scream at the agonizing scrape of her broken ribs, stumbling as she tried to keep up. The guards dragged her into a huge chamber, richly decorated in velvet hangings, ancient tapestries, and a huge obsidian throne. Dropping Asta to her knees before King Angrim, they stood back. The Princess could dimly hear the dark murmurs around her, those cold eyes staring at her in pitiless curiosity.

"Dear Lady..." The false tone of concern made her flush, and Asta forced herself to look at the King directly. "Who has treated you so roughly? Forgive me, my dear. And are those broken ribs?" Angrim stood, gesturing to the guards to lift her again. A slight groan of agony slipped between her clenched teeth, and the audience tittered. As the Elf's cold hands reached to her, Asta kicked at him, fighting the guards. With a brisk slap, he knocked her back to the floor and held her there with a knee to her sternum. She shuddered at the greasy coil of energy passing through her, healing her ribs. "I thought healing was one of your skills, Progeny," Angrim mused. "Hmmm... not quite what the Nagovisi crones promised Odin, are you?" Another ripple of mocking laughter went through the court, but Asta ignored it, slitted amber eyes still staring at the monster before her. King Angrim glowed with the dark beauty of his demented court, his perfect lips shaped into a fond smile. "Still, there is use for you."

"I will do nothing for you," Asta managed, arm crossed protectively against her stomach. "Nothing."

"We'll see," was his placid reply as Angrim circled her. "Lofsjar, you are certain this is necessary?"

The courtiers backed away from the gigantic figure lounging near the back. The creature was so huge that even seated, he had an easy view of the chamber. The darklight of the torch behind him shadowed his cruel features and the coal black eyes burning into her. "She is the one." The finely dressed nobles of the court stirred uneasily, his voice sounded like the howling of wild animals, blended into an insane chorus.

Asta fought back an involuntary gag at the sound, and the King laughed. "My dear, you should be honored. You are in the sacred presence of the last remaining Titan, the Gods who created the Universe." She gazed in horror at the behemoth, realizing that only he could be responsible for the Dark Magic that destroyed everything that mattered to her in a moment.

A rage swept over her, filling Asta with so much fury that she rose to her feet. "Then My Intended will take great pleasure sending that creature to rot with his kin." A long warning growl sounded from the gigantic bulk of Lofsjar, and the court made a low moaning sound, moving like sheep before a summer storm. "And for you- the armies of Asgard will decimate this pitiful pretense you've created here. Loki will tear you limb from screaming limb, and I will enjoy watching _every moment_. I am shamed as a Light Elf that there is any connection between our people!" The Dark King leaned back in his throne and looked at her thoughtfully.

"I sense you are not in the state to gratefully accept my generosity," Angrim observed, eyeing the furious girl. He smiled, his beautiful face still placid as if carved from marble. "But you will be."

The two Royal Guards stepped forward, roughly yanking Asta back to her cell. Shaking with the aftereffects of the adrenaline, she dropped to the cot, putting her head in her hands. The horrors of the day were too much- her taxed mind flinched away from even thinking of it. Desperately, Asta sent tendrils of inquiry out, moving like vines through the ether, seeking someone to speak to. There was nothing but utter silence. Her search became more and more frantic until she collapsed, sobbing on the bed. Being raised by the Sisters meant there was always someone with whom to share a word or a conversation- even in stasis, Asta still communicated back and forth. She had never been alone. Here in this fetid cell, the Progeny was truly alone for the first time her existence.

As silent as the Grand Hall had been, the shouting and cacophony of the War Council made up for it. Red-faced, Thor shouted demands for an immediate invasion into Svartalfheim. The military leaders blamed each other for the terrible lapse in security. Odin said nothing, watching his younger son. Loki was utterly still as if carved from a block of pure white marble. The only thing that showed he was alive was his eyes, a glowing, blazing emerald that no one could quite look into. Finally raising an imperious hand, the Allfather shut off the shouting, almost instantly. "Loki," he said, leaning in and trying to catch his son's glance. "My son, we need your help. There is no one more skilled in the art of sorcery among the Aesir. I've already sent word to Alfheim, asking for Leafsted's help. But we know time is of the essence. What can you tell us?"

Pale hands suddenly convulsing on the table, Loki crushed the Ironwood surface as if it were paper. "The only force in the Universe powerful enough to create a portal, send up an impenetrable force field and tear my-" There was silence for a moment, even the hardest general utterly, respectfully still and likely not knowing tears were running down his grizzled face. "-My sons from their mother would be a Titan. There is no other answer."

"What can we DO, brother!" Thor was pacing again, red cape swirling as he sought for someone to hit.

Loki's voice was cold and composed again. "There is a cursed object in the palace that acted as the conduit for the portal, it is the only way. Begin a search immediately for anything that looks unfamiliar or out of place. Assemble a battle unit, at least 100 men that can go through- I will be able to cross the magics and reopen the portal to their location. We cannot do this without the Ljósálfar- we need their strength against the Dark Elves."

As everyone raced around, deeply relieved to have something, _anything_ to do, Loki stood woodenly, walking out of the room. Frigga followed, placing her hand on his arm. "My son- please, dear. Come, come to my rooms, you need a moment to rest."

Gently removing her hand, Loki's lips were already silently chanting a new transport spell.

"Where are you going? Stay- Loki!" Frigga's went to her son again.

"I'm going to seek the souls of my sons," he answered.

The Queen sorrowfully shook her head. "Son, no... there is no comfort there, there is no one to help you."

Loki's head went up, a strange smile playing on his lips. "Yes, there is."

And he was gone.

Loki walked down the dank hallway, the stone walls festering with rotted moss, oozing blood and bile from the masonry cracks. He eyed the servants, dragging themselves on broken limbs, their shattered hands bringing platters to the table of their mistress. And sitting at the head was Hela. She stood, a single blue eye glaring at her visitor. "Such a pleasure..." The words dripped from her mangled lips. "To what does Hel owe this honor?" Smiling, Loki bent to deliberately kiss the withered, scarred flesh of her left cheek, rather than the smooth, pale perfection of her right.

"Hello, Daughter," he purred.

To call the ruler of the Underworld Loki's daughter a bit of a stretch, but he perversely insisted on calling her such. Hela was a terrifying amalgamation of pale, fine-boned beauty on the right side of her body, and clumps of rotting tissue and blackened skin on her left. An extremely clever witch managed to snare a handful of Loki's thick, long hair and used the strands to create the thing standing before him. Hela's mother intended to use her monstrous offspring to blackmail Asgard, demanding a realm of her own to rule. Odin instantly destroyed the shrieking harpy without expression. Hela, still standing before him and apparently unmoved by her mother's hideous death, made the Allfather pause. It wasn't her fault she'd been created- certainly not the half woman/half monster horror she was. "Your mother," he said heavily, "demanded a realm and a crown." The girl said nothing, simply shrugging the bony ruin of her left shoulder. "But you..." Odin pondered. "I will give you a realm to rule."

Hela had thrown back her head and cackled. "Really, Allfather? What subjects could endure the sight of me?"

His answering smile was the darkest thing ever seen on Odin's face. "The souls of the Underworld."

So, a Goddess of Hel was crowned, and she took great delight in the torment she wreaked on her shadowy population. It was obvious that Loki's godly DNA gifted Hela with her beautiful right side. But in his self-loathing, he always attributed the festering left of her as his contribution. Thus, it was to the left he would approach her.

"Why are you here, _Father?"_ Hela asked mockingly, "what interest could my humble kingdom hold for the God of Lies?"

"You know of my- my sons." He forced out, struggling to hold his composure.

"Yessss..." she mused, "such a tragedy. So much Dark Magic. Who knew it still existed in the Universe?" Taking a drink from her goblet with her graceful right hand, Hala choked a little as the wine trickled through the ribs on her left.

"I do not expect to find their souls here," Loki managed, "but I've come to ask you. Do you see them anywhere? Valhalla? Surely not Niffleheim."

The two eyed each other in silence as the shadows drifted through the room around them. Hela finally spoke, irritably kicking out at a soul limping by. "I was, of course, interested when news came of my... half-brothers," she said with a gruesome smirk. "After the theft from your wife's body, I did look for them, sending my Hel Hounds in every direction. They are nowhere to be found, Father. As if they simply did not exist."

Loki's fists clenched on the table. "That cannot be! Souls never pass. Certainly not my sons."

Hela was watching her sire with a strange expression, seen from the right, it almost looked like compassion. "I do not know, Father. But I cannot see them anywhere."

"Awake, Progeny!" The cold voice of the guards woke Asta as effectively as a bucket of cold water, and the girl forced herself to rise. Her spasming womb was still trying to adjust to the loss of its beloved burden, Asta's body still thinking it was with child. The confusion of her physical form only made the rips in the girl's soul deeper as she walked between the two Elves. King Angrim was lounging on his huge, black throne again, his perfect face serene.

"There you are, my dear. I do hope you're feeling better this morning?"

Asta longed to leap at the Elf and tear his face open with her nails and teeth, but she clenched her fists and said nothing.

"Perhaps a meal with help you," the King soothed, walking over to the dining table, filled with sumptuous fruits and pastries, sausages and eggs, carafes filled with warm and spicy-smelling drinks. "I'm sure you'll feel better once you've dined and your toilette is... improved," he finished, looking with distaste at Asta's torn and bloody dress. The guards shoved her into a chair, and the Princess sat passively as the King filled a plate for her, calmly speaking of this and that as if they were a married couple, breaking the fast together.

There was no one better trained in the treachery and magics of the Dark Elves than their polar opposite. Asta ignored her hunger and the smells wafting up to her. To eat food offered by a Dark Elf could put one in thrall to them forever. An unfortunate soul could eat poison, disguised as a delicacy, and the court would enjoy the show as the victim died an agonizing death. She would touch nothing. His hunger finally sated, King Angrim leaned back to look at a pale and motionless Asta. "I can imagine the past day has been...unsettling for you, my dear." His malicious smile showed he'd caught her shudder of hate and rage. "But really, I think you'll see it's all for the better." He reached over to put a frigid hand on hers, "your babies will be returned to you, my Lady. You have my word." Even knowing it was some cruel game, Asta couldn't help the desperate leap of her heart, hands going automatically to her stomach again, her mind helplessly chanting 'come back please come back please come back...'

"Beautiful, strong sons that will grow inside you, twins that will alter the course of this terrible battle that faces us." Angrim's voice was hypnotic, soothing as he painted the beautiful lie for her. "Don't you want that, my dear? Don't you want your sons in your arms?"

There was nothing more delicious to the Dark Elf than the look of almost painful hope as Asta raised her huge amber eyes to him. "But... you took them..."

The King waved his hand indifferently. "Oh, those. No, not _those_ pitiful creatures," he savored the collapse of hope in her eyes before continuing. "I speak, my dear, of _our_ sons. A magnificent mixture of Light and Dark- the most powerful race in the Universe." Really, he thought fondly, the girl was the most entertaining thing he'd witnessed since settling his secret court here, unimaginably far from his capital city. Enjoying the bloom of awareness, horror, and disgust in her expressive face, Angrim sighed happily, dining on her brutal emotions like a glass of wine after dinner.

"I knew you were mad," she answered flatly. "But I was unaware you were a fool."

He chuckled heartily, enjoying her little moment of courage. "Oh, my dear, _dear_ girl. You thought I'd somehow forgotten Nature's Law? No Elf can be forced to bear a child. It must be by choice. But you will choose."

Suddenly tired, Asta stood and turned away from him. "I am the wife of Prince Loki Of Asgard. I will never betray my husband. And my time here is short. I would suggest preparing for battle, rather than attempting to impregnate me."

"You do NOT turn your back to me!" Angrim roared, furious at the nerve of the little sow. Her slender shoulders pushed back, and Asta began to walk towards the door.

"You may as well place me in my cell. There is nothing to be said here. You are a murderer and an absolute lunatic if you think Asgard will let this stand." Asta turned to leave again, only to be stopped by the guards. Looking to the King again, her stomach twisted in dread. The Dark Elf looked... happy as if she'd just given him what he really wanted.

"I see a civilized approach is not appreciated, so I'm willing to try something new, my dear. More... entertaining." He laughed; his beautiful features highlighted by the blacklight. "At least for me."

The guards dragged Asta along behind the King as she angrily jerked at their grasp, trying to get free. More and more of the Dark courtiers began to follow them, smiling and whispering as if scenting blood in the water. The procession ended out in a courtyard, Asta blinked in the watery light from the reverse moon. Its sickle shape was the only light she'd seen from outside wherever the King had hidden his court, making her wonder if he'd created a pocket of subspace large enough to host this nightmare mansion. It made her heart sink- it would make it even harder for Loki to find her, if not impossible. Lifting her chin, Asta mentally scolded herself. Her Intended would find her. There was no doubt.

Her attention was rudely jerked back to the present as the Dark King strolled up to a huge covered cage. "My Lords and Ladies!" His silky voice carried to all corners of the huge courtyard. "I fear my dear little broodmare is unappreciative of my generosity and..." He grinned a shark's grin, all teeth, and malice. "...and my kindness." The elves surrounding them tittered or booed, eager for sport. "Shall we show her what happens to creatures not yet brought to heel?" Smiling graciously at their vicious cheers, he waved a hand and the covering over the cage dropped.

Asta gasped with horror. Inside was Fryktløs. Loki's beloved friend was cruelly muzzled, lash marks striping his beautiful flanks, crisscrossing over and over. His ribs showed harshly on his emaciated sides. But that strong head still lifted tall, refusing to drop. "Oh, dear Fryktløs!" Asta yanked free from her captors, racing for the cage. His proud eyes flared as he recognized her, a weak rumble of welcome for her through the muzzle. "He is coming!" she whispered frantically, "Loki is coming, dear friend! Do not despair, he will come for us!"

Ignoring the mocking laughter of the glittering vultures around them, Asta stroked his nose and whispered comfort until yanked away again. Fryktløs stomped a huge hoof in fury. King Angrim leaned over Asta's shoulder. "We took him easily," he taunted, "your weak excuse for a husband simply left him behind." He ignored Asta's scoff and held out his hand. A purple apple was placed in his palm, shiny, perfectly shaped and promising a crisp, juicy bite. As she looked closer, Asta saw a sickly red sheen, as if it had been dipped in blood. The Dark King turned to hold the luscious fruit out to Fryktløs as the muzzle was removed. "Now then, beast. Why don't you show this mare that even the most stubborn of animals finally accept their Master? Take the apple."

The brave son of Bevinget Hest regarded the treat. There were flecks of foam on his sore mouth, flanks trembling from hunger. As the King's hand inched invitingly close, the stallion suddenly lunged for him, trying to take a bite of the Dark Elf instead. The apple and the hand holding it was withdrawn at lightning speed. "Whip!" growled the King, and to Asta's disgust, it was Prince Andreas wielding the vicious coil of leather.

"Is there nothing too low or vile for you to do, you revolting little troll?" Asta shouted as he headed for the caged animal. Furiously grabbing at his arm, she hissed at him as he raised an angry hand to slap her.

"Stop!" Angrim's voice halted their struggle. "You love this beast, broodmare? Will you take his punishment?" Asta's blood ran cold, but she felt herself nod instantly.

"This beautiful soul is worth ten of you!" she spat. "You've already taken everything from me. Do what you will." Laughing as he tied her hands to the cage, Prince Andreas lifted the whip with a loud crack and began.

Notes:

Everybody okay? Wanna take five for a potty break, stretch your legs? It was a hard chapter, I know. But there IS a plan! Trust me...


	24. I Can Hold Another Day

In which Asgard and the White Court race to find the Dark King's stronghold, Asta struggles to hold on.

Chapter Text

The nightmare round of beatings, torture, being offered food and drink she refused, then passing out in her cell became Asta's pattern during those terrible days. The secret the Dark Elves never discovered was that all of those things were preferable to the terrifying sense of "Alone" that tormented her in the cell. The horror of being cut off from anyone- anyone at all was excruciating. But Asta held firm. Her Intended would come.

Each day that passed was utter misery for those in Asgard. Spies sent to every corner of the Nine Realms found nothing. The Dark Elves had removed their court from the Capitol City, the most powerful faction of Angrim's rule had simply disappeared. Loki angrily demanded a new search daily, enraged that no one had found the cursed object that brought those monsters there. His soul was raw- the Prince knew exactly what the Black Court was capable of, and the thought of his beautiful wife- already in despair from the theft of their sons- at their mercy made him nearly insane with grief.

The arrival of King Leafstred and his warriors was a welcome relief. The White Court had more elves skilled in sorcery- and they all converged on Asgard, everyone desperate to find the Princess.

More days passed in the nightmare world Asta inhabited. She never could have imagined how inventive the Dark Elves could be when it came to torture. By the scratches she kept on the wall in her cell, fourteen days had passed since her babies were torn from her, and she to this place.

"Awake, Progeny!"

Another day of Asta's life in this Hel began, dragged as always to with the King as he dined on an elaborate display of food, always placing a heaping plate in front of his captive. She sat, pale and silent until asked the inevitable question:

"My dear, are you ready to lay with me and bear my sons?" The Dark King held her golden gaze with his viperous one, waiting for her answer.

"As always, you should be preparing for your destruction and not wasting the time you have left attempting to impregnate me," Asta answered dully. "I will never betray my husband."

Angrim's lip curled. "There is no rescue coming, my dear." Raising an elegant hand, he gestured the guards, who dragged two men forward. Asta's eyes widened slightly before she managed to school her expression. She recognized these faces- she'd seen them before at war councils in Odin's chambers. "Tell the Princess what you know."

With a vicious kick, one rose to his knees, coughing in that horrible way that indicates there are things broken terribly inside his body. "Your Grace, forgive us, we have failed you. Asgard has fallen. The Queen is dead, the Princes Thor and Loki are missing. There is nothing left."

Asta sadly shook her head. "I am so sorry for your suffering. I know they forced these lies from you. But if you are still mine to command, tell them nothing!"

The men began screaming, begging the King for mercy. "We told her what you said! We-" With a furious hand, Angrim waved a spell, beginning torture so unspeakable that even the vicious Black Court was silenced by the end. Asta stood bound in chains and watched it all.

Lying crumpled in her cell that night, Asta wondered how much longer she could last. Light Elves were impressively tough, she could survive a long time without food and water. But the unrelenting torture and the terror she endured every night in the Alone... that was taking it's toll faster than she'd like to admit. She'd heard of those who began to fade, turning into a shadow, absorbed back into the ether. Watching beetles scuttle across the floor, she wondered how it would feel to become a shade... restful, at peace. No more torment. Instantly ashamed of herself, Asta put her hand over her eyes. All of Asgard and likely the White Court were searching for her, she was certain. And here she was, feeling sorry for herself? Those poor men today- her suffering was nothing to theirs.

Rolling over, Asta carefully brought up her favorite memory, gently, like unfolding a letter read a thousand times.

Loki took her back to the waterfall after the joyful news of their sons called for a "personal celebration." Pressing her against a rock, Loki greedily took in her breasts, pulling them gently from her bodice. "My lovely wife, I believe your breasts have grown." His look up at her was sly, the mischief glittering in the emerald depths. "And are they sensitive, darling?" Asta shuddered with pleasure as his cool lips and tongue traced around her nipples, teeth gently holding one as his tongue tickled it lightly, just before sucking the whole thing into his mouth. Laughing at her sudden gasp, Loki purred into her ear, "Darling, when you give birth to our sons, those little mouths will latch onto these perfect pink nipples and suck-"

"AH! Husband..." she moaned, arching helplessly against his mouth, even though it hurt. Asta slid her fingers through his thick hair, digging her nails into his scalp at another hard pass of his mouth. She could feel him shaking with laughter against her sensitive nipple, sending a bolt of arousal down her spine and through her pussy, as if an electrical conduit ran between them.

Loki's eyes narrowed in fascination, finding nothing more arousing and exotic than the sight of his bride, back arched as her hands held him to those round, delicious breasts. "I think of these beautiful bits of you engorged with milk, so voluptuous and ripe-" The Prince shuddered for a moment, trying to gain control. "I can hardly wait to lie with you in our bed, watching our sons at your breast." Asta forced herself to look at her husband, so caught up with him in his fantasy. Gently stroking the iron erection straining against the fastenings of his pants, she smiled to feel his cool hands tighten convulsively on her breasts. Feeling brave, the Princess untied his pants, slipping her hand inside. She always loved the way he looked when she stroked his cock- head thrown back, a secretive smile on those lips with his thick lashes on those sharp cheekbones.

All too soon Loki waved a hand, making the clothing from them both disappear. But this time, his strong arms rolled Asta on top of him, holding her hips as he smiled that dark, secretive smile before lifting her hips and bringing her pussy to his mouth. Asta gasped and convulsed in surprise, nearly falling from her perch until he steadied her. She caught his unrepentant grin right at the moment her wet lips were lifted down to his. "Oh! My Intended!" she stuttered, trying to control her body, already shaking from what he was doing to her. Even when Asta would twitch or flail from a gentle bite against her clitoris or his pointed tongue snaking into her channel, Loki held her tightly. After bringing her against his mouth over and over until she came, the Dark Prince slid her shaking legs down and wrapped them around his waist, sitting up to watch Asta sink down over his cock.

"How can this be so perfect?" she moaned. "This day, this beautiful place, your wonderful..." Loki's dick surged up into her again, the sheer volcanic heat of her making him feel like his flesh was melting into hers. The heated press of her round ass against his thighs burned into him, making his hands tighten against her, white knuckles against the pink flush of her ass where he gripped her.

Knowing she close to the point of not being to hold off, Asta held his face in her hands, smiling at the sheer beauty of the God she'd chosen. "May I please..." she moaned, trying to sound like she was whining.

"You may come, my lovely girl, my wife." Loki urged, bringing her down harder around his shaft, loving how those hot, fluttering walls would tighten against him, even clamping down harder as his head thrust through her tender cervix and into her womb.

This time, neither could look away as he felt his come boiling up his cock just as Asta's pussy started that rhythmic clamp, squeezing the Prince from his balls to his sensitive tip. At the moment his wife let out a gratified shriek and moaned, "Loki! Oh! Oh, I love you so!" his cock swelled to explode, just as her walls clamped down in an intense clenching grip. The brutal pressure against his peak moment made the Prince of Asgard come with an intensity he felt in his feet.

He fell forward, pushing her back into the soft grass, trying to not crush his sons. "My beautiful Asta," Loki groaned. He opened his eyes to see her gazing at him lovingly, deepened to a blazing gold. Arms suddenly shaking, he rested his dark head against the pale skin of her breast, their softness cradling him as he gasped, "thank you Asta- thank you for loving me."

Her arms flew around him, those long legs encircling his narrow hips. With a sigh, the God of Lies fell asleep, head resting against her soft breasts, her hand smoothing his hair. Asta wouldn't move, holding the perfection of the moment suspended.

With a shuddering sigh, the Princess of Asgard curled into a ball, one hand covering her silent womb. Carefully tucking the memory back into the deepest part of her heart, she fell into an exhausted sleep. "I can hold," Asta barely whispered. "I can hold another day."


	25. Yes

n which Loki is illuminated, and Asta is blinded.

Notes:

Trigger warnings for violence against women and animals. I have a plan! Trust me! Last warning I'll need to give you, thank God. This is the last of the really difficult chapters if you've been skipping.

Chapter Text

But the next day was so much worse.

"Awake, Progeny!"

Asta gritted her teeth as the guards yanked her down the hall. She'd given up trying to pull away from their harsh grip and simply walk long ago, her efforts only digging cruel fingers into the soft flesh of her arms. The meal with the Dark King was so much worse- his gestures angry and disjointed, and when Asta wearily refused him yet again, he hauled her to her feet himself. "You insult my hospitality? The honor of carrying my children?" he shouted, clearly unhinged. "Then this is what you deserve, you White Court whore!"

'No! Oh, Nonono...' Asta moaned silently, knowing he was dragging her into the courtyard where Fryktløs was still held in that cruel cage. She could take the whipping- she could. It was watching Loki's poor horse paw frantically at the floor and whinny furiously at her captors as he was forced to see her endure his torture. Burying her head against her hands bound to the cage, the Princess sent out desperate tendrils of inquiry from her mind. 'Fryktløs' she thought. 'It's all right, my friend. I can hold. Loki will be here soon.' In her suffering, Asta didn't see the Titan watching the beating. After Prince Andreas finished, his whip dripping with her blood, King Angrim suddenly laughed.

"Now give the beast HER punishment."

"NO!" she cried furiously, before forcing herself into silence. Her pleas would only extend the noble animal's misery.

Thrown back onto the moldy stones of her cell that night, the Progeny fought the desperate desire to weep. Fryktløs' punishment then sparked another of her own, then back again and so forth, until Princess and stallion were both covered in blood. All the while, the Dark King mocked her with the loss of her sons, ridiculing her weakness in not keeping them safe within her. Finally getting to her hands and knees, Asta rested a moment before crawling on to her cot, scratching off another day on the wall. Knowing it was useless, the girl sent out her psychic inquiry, tendrils of thought hopefully spreading, trying to find someone to answer back. The Alone was so much more terrifying tonight, maybe there was someone this time... Asta gagged, suddenly sitting up on the filthy mattress. An oily stench was curling along a fragile signal of inquiry, eagerly tracking it back to the source. Unconsciously shaking her head, she tried frantically to coil her feelers back in like a ball of yarn, but the filthy grasp finally latched on to her brain. It was like the unspeakable seconds Asta spent in the mind of the Demon King Surtur at her wedding feast, trying not to scream at the wasteland of horrors she'd seen there. Except, this was so much worse. A thousand times more horrifying, the chill of its madness tearing through her nerve endings before Asta managed to sever the connection. Her long-empty stomach recoiled, leaving her to dry-heave wretchedly until her body accepted there was nothing there to expel. Drifting into a fitful sleep, the Princess dreamed again of Ragnarok, shuddering and moaning wretchedly.

"Awake, Progeny!"

Numbly staggering down the hall, Asta was almost grateful for her guard's harsh grasp today. Her legs were so shaky, she wasn't sure she could walk. The luscious breakfast. The vile proposal.

"You see my problem, Lofsjar." Angrim's tone wasn't hateful today as always. He sounded like an actor happily playing his favorite role.

To Asta's horror, the next voice was the nightmare howl of the Titan. "I believe our approach needs some... adjustment." Suddenly, her entire body felt bound, wrapped in impenetrable ties that held her utterly still. A thick muffling hood swarmed over her head, blocking sight, sound, and more terrifying, her mind's ability to reach out. The Princess was trapped in the Alone, with no way to escape. Casting desperately for sanity, Asta began to clearly and calmly repeat the Complete Histories Of The White Court, Volume One.

Angrim's brow furrowed. "Why do you allow her speech?"

The Titan Lofsjar grinned, black blood dripping down his chin. "Patience."

Asta was three hours into the Complete Histories Of The White Court, Volume Six when her throat suddenly seized, choking her until she forced herself to breathe slowly. Her voice was gone. The Princess was sure she was shaking, weeping... but she felt nothing, drifting alone in the ether. Mentally taking a calm, deep breath, she began again. "Chapter One, page one." Asta thought, "The White Court was founded by..."

Loki was pacing the floors of his chambers again, forcing his mind to walk through the steps over and over. Where was the mistake, the chink in Angrim's armor? No court of the Nine Realms disappeared overnight. Where was his WIFE? He suddenly hoped Asta and Fryktløs were being held together. They were the only other connection to home and sanity. Slumping on to the thick green velvet coverings on his bed, the Prince buried his head in his hands. Where WAS she? What were they doing to his Asta?

'Chapter... chapter... was it 3,006?' The Progeny tried to recall where she'd left off. Without her scratches on the wall, she had no idea how long she'd been buried like this- blocked utterly in the Alone.

"My dear, look..." The usually vile tone of the Dark King was comforting, warm. Asta shuddered against the sudden surge of gratitude to the voice that spoke to her in the dark. "...your sons, they need you. They need their mother to help them. Why would you refuse your babies?"

'Ch- ch- chapter 3,011,' she moaned internally, "How King Illurium slew the Demon Dragon...'

War Council the following morning dragged, without Loki taking charge. He simply sat, staring at a stone in the wall without expression. Odin finally waved his hand tiredly and ended the session. Thor walked out with his brother. Casting about for anything to say that didn't include Asta in the sentence, he asked, "Tell me truthfully, brother. Did you ever get Fryktløs to fly as you rode him?"

It took Loki a moment, then he wiped a hand across his stubbled jaw. "Ah," he mused. "Was that the rumor? No, Fryktløs has his own plan for when such things would be carried out because he was never would allow me the honor." He gave a humorless chuckle.

Hopeful at least getting his brother to speak, Thor grinned. "I knew it! Stubborn creature. But so magnificent,"

"Beyond compare," Loki agreed with a rare smile, "Fryktløs was truly the best of all our wedding gifts-" He stopped dead, Thor nearly tripping over him. As his brother whirled to face him, the God of Thunder almost didn't recognize the look on his face. It was hope. "It's here!" Loki hissed, seizing his brother's arm. "Damn me to Hel for my foolishness, the portal was right here all the time!"

Asta's body was shuddering, a simple fatigue reaction from the immeasurable strain. But wrapped in the torture of the Alone she couldn't feel it. She was whispering a nursery rhyme her Sister sang to her at the Nagovisi convent. How long had she been drifting here in the Alone? A day? A thousand years? 'One fine day, a maiden true...'

"Your sons need you, Asta. Can't you hear them weep? Their poor hands reach for their mother. Why would you push your babies away?" The Dark King's voice was the only thing to breach the utter silence of the Alone, his voice sad and reproachful.

The Princess swallowed for a throat she couldn't feel. "I am the wife of Prince Loki of Asgard, I will never betray my husband. ...one fine day, a maiden true..."

The castle was finally alive, a thousand different people racing in one direction or the other. Loki, Odin, and Thor directed the multitude with new authority and purpose. "The strike must be ruthless," emphasized King Leafstred. "With the power of the Mad Titan behind them, there will be no second chance with the Black Court."

"Agreed," said Loki, "the element of surprise is our greatest advantage." He turned to the combat sorcerers from the White Elf group. "My friends, your harnessing spell must be able to hold the Titan for the time it takes to bring our troops through..."

Was there still a Universe outside her prison? Asta wondered, still trying to croak the alphabet in order. Or, had Ragnarök taken everything-wiped out every living thing in existence? 'Ah, Beh, Ceh-'

"Please, sweet Asta, please do not leave your son's tiny souls to suffer." King Angrim sounded nearly tearful, his distress over these lost twins truly profound and painful. "They need their Mother. They need to be safe in your womb, my darling. Will you let your little ones drift in the Alone?"

The breath caught like razor blades in her throat. Her boys? Their babies, hers and Loki's, trapped in the Alone like her?

The King's voice came with the warmth of another this time, the warmth of a body standing close to hers in the terrible black nothingness. "Take my hand, dear Asta. Take my hand and save your sweet sons. Can you feel them? So close to you, sweet. So nearly inside you again."

"R-really?" The Progeny knew how cracked and desperate her voice sounded, but it was all she could manage. "My babies?" 'Our babies,' she thought, dazed. 'Loki's and mine.'

"Yes." She felt the warm, firm hand take her own, centering her for the first time in eternity. "Yes, your twin sons. Do you want your children?"

There was something wrong about saying the word, Asta knew it. But she couldn't remember why and her babies needed her. 'Yes?'

Angrim's voice again, warm and empathetic, as his other hand reached into the Alone, squeezing her shoulder gently. "You must say it aloud, my dear. So they can hear you."

Clumsily clearing her throat, Asta whispered, "Y-yes."

"And will you lay with me to bear these beautiful children?"

Why should she refuse? Asta shook with the effort of trying to remember, but all she could think of was the tender weight of her babies in her belly and the expression on her Intended's face when she brought them home to him, safe at last.

"...Y..."

"Asta, my dear? Your sons..." The warm hands were loosening from hers, and she gripped them tighter.

"Yes."

Loki's mouth was set in a thin and furious line as he stared at the object of their betrayal, Asta's and his. How could he not have known? The elaborate chest filled with gold coins and jewels, the wedding gift of the Dark Elves sat on its stand in the vault with the other gifts from their wedding. Raising his broad forearm, he made a quick slash with his knife. He spoke once more. "Be ready. The future of the Nine Realms, my- my Asta's life depend on you." Raising his arm over the chest, Loki's blood flowed into the cursed object until a vicious ray of bluish light shot from the object with a massive "CRACK!" as if the surface of the World was tearing open. The massive portal ripped apart in front of them, and the battle unit raced forward.

Asta barely felt the ungentle hands bathe her, dressing her in Black Court garb, lacquering her long black hair into an elaborate style and painting her face like an exotic doll's. The whites and golden iris of her eyes were swallowed with matte black, staring ahead blindly. The hands pushed and pulled her to the courtyard, where Asta could faintly hear the terrified whinny of...who was that again? She was laid on a granite altar, the viperous buzz of the Dark Elves muted in her ear. "It's time." King Angrim's voice was no longer warm or kind, Asta could feel him roughly pushing her gown up her calves, shoving the heavy silk past her knees. "Spread your legs, dear. It's time to make you with child."

Notes:

I know how tough this is. But you know Asta's devotion would have to be tested in the most terrible ways for her to ever weaken. I tried to keep this as non-awful as possible while showing the severity of what poor Asta could take before breaking.


	26. I Have Been Lost Without You

In which Asta is returned to her husband. In every way.

Notes:

Repeating from the last chapter in case you skipped because of trigger warnings: I know how tough this is. But you know Asta's devotion would have to be tested in the most terrible ways for her to ever weaken. I tried to keep this as non-awful as possible while showing the severity of what poor Asta could take before breaking.

But as you'll see, now she's safe, Loki adores her, and there's no more of that asshole King Angrim. Take that, Dark Elves! And screw you, Ragnarok!

Trigger warnings for violence here. But since it's against the Black Court, I suspect most of you will enjoy it.

Chapter Text

Tearing through the portal and experiencing how paper thin the barrier is with time and space was very disorienting for most of the Aesir troops, but they recovered quickly and slashed their way through the Black Court. King Leafstred's battle group was experienced with portal travel, but locating their target was harder. The Mad Titan was watching the Royal Conception with some amusement, but the instant the portal opened, he was nowhere to be found. Loki and Thor led the charge, so the brothers had the first view of Asta's form, pale and still on the stone platform. One hand lay dangling over the edge of the granite, her sightless black eyes open and staring into nothing. King Angrim was just climbing on the table to take her, his pants already open. The God of Lies couldn't recall the moments next, not even when witnesses described his actions. Loki's three enchanted knives sank into the Dark King with a meaty "thunk!" in rapid succession. One tore through his back, skewering his heart, another through his throat- the third's vicious tip already razoring its way through his brain and out between his brows. The Prince apparated from where he stood to over Angrim's shuddering body, shouting a death curse as he severed the Dark Elf's head from his body. King Leafstred helpfully shoved two fingers in the direction of his dark counterpart and uttered a cruel oath, exploding the decapitated head.

Loki gathered his unresponsive wife in his arms. Her skirts raised to mid-thigh, legs spread. "My love- my wife- oh-" He was shuddering with horror, feeling the reverberation of the suffering she endured wash over him like an ocean wave.

"LOKI!" His head shot up. Fandrall and Hogun stood before him, tears in their eyes. "We'll take the Princess back to safety. You are needed to finish this." When the stunned Prince hesitated, Hogun struck his arm. "You must go, Your Grace. We will protect her with our lives."

Their Commander gritted his teeth, but nodded, reluctantly handing Asta to the men, who were immediately surrounded by a battalion on their way to the portal. Both longed to be in the fight, but they were shrewd enough to know that not only Loki but Thor as well could not concentrate without knowing she was safe. Hogun's sharp ears suddenly heard the smashing of hooves against a steel cage, the furious neighing of a horse. He deviated for a moment, following the sound to find Fryktløs trying to kick his way free. One sharp swipe with Hogun's blade cut the lock, but the stallion raced past him. Growling in frustration, the warrior made his way back to see Asta safely home.

Battle was always a blur of color and sound, none of it truly registering until the heat of it was over, but Loki did recognize the cadence of the gallop approaching him. Fryktløs' huge hooves crushed the skull of the Dark Elf about to send his sword into Loki's back. The outcome wasn't certain for a terrifying space of time, but the Aesir and Light Elves prevailed. There were no survivors- the only way to fell a Dark Elf was to tear them to pieces. "Commander!" Loki's head turned to see one of his captains holding up the bloodied head of a Dark Elf by his hair. "We found this one hiding inside. Shall we kill him?" Emerald eyes narrowed, the Prince recognized the elf as the one who danced with Asta at their wedding celebration. His smile was not pleasant.

"No. Imprison him. The deepest circle."

Wearily finishing the search, no one could find Lofsjar, the Titan had escaped without a trace. "Your Grace!" One of the sorcerers from the Light Elves called sharply. "We must leave! The portal is collapsing!"

Thor gripped his brother's arm. "We must go." When Loki hesitated, he reminded him, "We have your wife, Asta is safe, brother."

Running a furious hand through his dark hair, the Prince protested, "But with the Mad Titan free, Ragnarök is still imminent!"

"We'll find him, brother!" Thor gripped Loki's arm, "I know you deserve to tear him to pieces, and you will! But we must go."

Taking his exhausted stallion through the rift, The Prince looked back. This wasn't finished. His wife still wasn't safe.

Asking Thor to see to Fryktløs, Loki raced for the Healing Rooms. Such was his anxiety that he actually forgot he could simply transport himself there until halfway through the castle. Instantly appearing next to the Soul Forge made several people jump, but he bent to the still figure of Asta. The haughty Prince of Lies had never wept in front of others- perhaps shed tears in private a handful of times in his adult life. But the battered form of his Asta broke Loki in a way he never expected. All the sleepless nights of agonizing over what the Dark King could do to his bride was nothing compared to the result. "Asta," he murmured, putting cool cheek against her pallid one. "My love. Please awaken. Please come back to me."

Battered and bloody himself from the battle, Thor nonetheless refused the help of the staff at the Royal Stables, insisting on caring for Fryktløs himself. His heart burned to see the damage done to the beautiful, valiant creature. "Despite all you have suffered," he said, careful to keep his usually booming voice calm and quiet, "you fought courageously with the last of your strength to save my brother, didn't you?" The stallion's ear perked, the huge head nudging gently against Thor. To the God of Thunder's surprise and a bit of embarrassment, even the gentle nudge from the magnificent beast nearly knocked him off his feet. It gave him a new respect for his little brother's strength. The effort of putting salve over the brutal whip marks and cuts slowed, Thor's gigantic mitt brushing Fryktløs' flanks gently. "And I suspect you watched over the girl we all love, didn't you?" He chuckled briefly at Fryktløs' warning nicker. "No fear, my friend. I meant only to thank you. I suspect she would not have survived without you." Suddenly, the huge black head of the beast who never bowed to the cruelty of King Angrim tiredly leaned against Thor's gigantic shoulder. Stunned, the God of Thunder processed his thoughts. "Nor would you have survived without Asta, would you?" The exhausted whinny told him all he needed to know. With tears in his blue eyes, Thor slowly and carefully treated his brother's horse.

The celebration raged through the Free Realms- as Asgard, Vanaheim, and Alfheim were known. Midgard remained blissfully ignorant of the threat facing them, and Jotunheim refused to enter the fray. People were giddy, grateful for the overthrow of the Dark Elves and hoping it would cripple the other Realms. Odin's council was not so sure. Thor, King Leafstred and the generals gave the detailed reports, the war council endlessly debating and planning for what would happen next. Loki refused to leave the Healing Room, and when Asta was stabilized, his chambers. He stayed at her bedside, caressing her face, kissing the eyelids over those unnerving matte black eyes, brushing her long ebony hair and talking to her in his beautiful, resonant voice. And still, the girl was unresponsive, staring blankly with those terrible dark orbs. Servants would come and go, leaving food and drink, laying out fresh clothes for the Prince that he would never bother to change into. Frigga came and sat with her daughter in law, the only time Loki was willing to sleep fitfully on the bed beside his wife. The Sisters of the Nagovisi arrived, examining her and talking together in hushed tones. The Sister that Loki first met at Asta's Birth came to speak to him.

"When did you last sleep, Your Grace?" she smiled, watching his haggard expression.

The Prince shook his head irritably, "Tell me how to recover my wife."

The Sister sighed. "The injuries to her body were severe, but can be healed. The damage to her psyche- this is different. You can actually understand this, since you and Asta 'speak.' She was raised from the womb to communicate with us, even in stasis as she awaited her birth. Being able to communicate with you, in the same way, cemented your bond. It is a very rare thing with the Intendeds to share this gift with their Progeny. She was... blocked from reaching out to any life form. We call it the Alone. It is unbearable for us, cut off from all contact."

"Then- then SPEAK to her, please!" urged Loki, running his hands through his disheveled hair.

"We are not her Intended," the Sister said, putting a hand on his in sympathy. "That is how you must reach her."

Loki steadily ate until he couldn't hold another bite. He went into his deep tub and bathed, scrubbing himself viciously. The Prince dressed in fresh clothes, selecting ones he knew Asta liked. Gathering a huge bowl of water scented with her favorite flowers from the garden, Loki tenderly undressed her. Running the cloth along her painfully thin arms and legs, he spoke to her inside his head, recounting the search, that Fryktløs was well and the cruel Dark King dead, his Black Court destroyed. Washing her hair and drying it, he spoke of his love for her, when he saw his Jotunn pattern on her skin in violet. Gently massaging her bruised back, he purred of the first time he entered her body, on their wedding night and again at the waterfall. "You used to ask me to take you 'in blue,' as you called it." he teased silently, kissing her lips. "It was like touching the sun to be inside you." Kissing her feet and each of her toes, the Prince whispered memories of their first kiss in his bed. Stroking her long legs, he recounted her irresistible lusciousness as he caressed her breasts in the rooms where his mother placed her. "She was trying to keep you away from me," he grinned at the memory, "likely for good reason, my darling." Running his tongue up her neck and over her full lips, he whispered into her head of the morning she allowed his clone to teach her self-pleasure. "Asta, my darling, my wife," he murmured, his lips never moving, "you must return to me now. I need you. I cannot live without you." Heart pounding, Loki parted her thighs, stroking his long fingers over the part of her he'd dreamt of every night. "Let me be with you again, my angel. Let me fill you."

The most conceited creature in all the Nine Realms was shaking as he worshipped his wife's body with fingers, lips, and tongue. Loki felt a surge of hope as Asta's body began to moisten for him, her lower lips sweet and wet. Hovering over her still body, he finally 'spoke' with a touch of his old arrogance. "Open for me, little girl. Your King wishes to find his pleasure within you." Hands shaking, Loki closed his eyes as his generous cock spread her pussy, pushing teasingly against her slick until the thick head of him slipped in. To his shock, he nearly came instantly. The heat of her! His shaft swelled painfully, the cool of his cock sliding along her fiery walls. "So tight," he groaned. "My perfect, delicious wife- open for me now."

Loki watched as the flush of his Intended's innocent youth began to flush in her cheeks again, the surface of her skin wildly heated as before. Her newly pink lips parted, gasping in great breaths as she used to when he took her vigorously. He stroked deeper, his huge palms stroking over her round breasts, teasing her nipples. "Little girl..." came the sibilant whisper he knew Asta could never resist. "I'm inside you, darling. To the hilt. Move with me."

"Mmmm..." The dark violet shadows Loki adored began to chase his caress against her skin. Asta's head slowly tilted back, mouth opening and moaning helplessly. The Dark Prince could feel her walls begin to tense, the delicate tissues of her cervix flutter as he stroked deep enough to enter her womb.

Thrusting desperately to his finish, he managed to utter his final command. "Come for Daddy now. Your pleasure is mine. I demand it." Just as Loki exploded inside her with a low growl, Asta's golden eyes shot open.

All the girl could feel was the thick come of her Intended spurting inside her, his strong thighs holding her open and the beautiful intensity of her own orgasm overtaking her, "Oh! Oh, my Beloved, I-" And just as he had commanded, Asta came. Wildly, blazingly. And back to life, to the world, and to him.

To her sweet confusion, Loki began weeping, still hard inside her as they both shuddered through the last of their explosive finish. "Oh, my Asta," he moaned, "my darling. Welcome home. I have been lost without you." Still trying to remember how she came to be here, safe at home, the Progeny wrapped long legs and arms around her husband, holding him tightly to her soft breasts, stroking his thick hair again.


	27. Walking Nude Through Odin's Throne Room

In which the Royal Family ponders how can things return to normal when there's no normal anymore?

Also. Sif is a jealous bitch.

Chapter Text

The next few days left Asta feeling exposed- as if she was walking nude through Odin's crowded throne room. Everyone was overly solicitous, helping her stand and sit as if she'd lost her arms and legs instead of losing... the Princess forced her thoughts in another direction. It did no good to think that way.

Many hours were spent meeting with Odin's War Council, trying to uncover anything she'd learned while in captivity. Asta had stored every stray scrap of information, knowing how important it could be. After the third day of debriefing, Loki eyed his drooping-eyed bride and irritably waved an elegant hand, ending the questions. "The Lady Asta is clearly exhausted. We can reconvene tomorrow, though I hear you asking the same questions over and over at this point."

Sheepishly nodding, the generals stood as the couple left the room. "I could have continued, Loki." Asta protested softly, "I'm not an invalid."

"I know, my sweet wife." he soothed, "but there's a point when they need to analyze what they know instead of repeating themselves. You gave them so much to work with! My magnificent little spy."

Loki smiled down at her, but Asta saw the grief behind his smile. It was an expression from him that was unfamiliar. Her dark husband usually responded with sarcasm or rage to things that displeased or upset him. A stab of guilt hit her hard. Her Intended was in pain because... there was more she could have done. Should have done.

Asta spent time in the gardens, caring for the priceless little sapling and working with the flowers. Usually, watching life grow and flower in her care from a patch of soil was miraculous, life-affirming. But she couldn't seem to find the same enthusiasm. Nonetheless, the Princess dutifully worked on restocking medical supplies created from Frigga's medicinal gardens, depleted constantly from the endless border skirmishes and raids on Vanaheim.

The best moments came when she and Loki were alone. Asta could feel her soul regenerate when he was inside her, whispering his filthy suggestions and compliments. This was her beautiful, diabolical Intended, driving her to distraction. One mischievous evening, Loki lured her behind a massive marble pillar not a stone's throw from the dining hall. "Someone will hear us!" she gasped as one cool hand slid up her skirt, his other deftly loosening her bodice.

"Then don't make a sound, little girl," he whispered in that treacherous, resonant voice, chuckling as she gasped. Asta closed her mouth desperately as she felt the chilled head of Loki's cock slip through her heated lips. Hoisting her higher, he grinned against her mouth as Asta let out a squeak, then a moan as he found his target. "Mmmmm... you are divine, my beautiful BabyGirl. Do you like what Daddy is doing to you?" Feeling her nod frantically against his cheek, Loki was tempted to make her answer him, but the doors opened as Thor and Sif walked out.

"Where are they?" rumbled Thor. "We were to take a night ride."

Sif sighed dramatically, already bored with the search. "Knowing your brother, they're already back in their chambers and-"

The God of Thunder winced painfully. "Don't say it! You're being disrespectful."

"How am I the disrespectful for speaking the truth?" The warrioress was clearly getting irritated. Loki slowed his strokes inside his wife as he listened. Really, dinner and a show!

Asta was fighting her feelings of resentment over seeing one of her husband's former lovers speculating about her sex life while the subject of the discussion was briskly plowing the depths of her. Taking Loki's face firmly in her hands, Asta pushed her tongue into his mouth, tracing those sharp white teeth and sucking on his own. Her diabolical spouse starting thrusting into her harder, making sure to stroke against her clitoris each time. "Oh, darling... feeling a little possessive, little girl?" He barely breathed the words into her ear, but Asta stiffened against him, having the unfortunate effect of tightening down on his cock and making Loki utter a low groan.

"-what was that?" Thor stopped mid-argument to look around.

Poor Asta's head dropped back against the marble hiding them. She was so close! If those two could just shut up while she- Clenching anxiously on her husband, that deliciously coiling, blazing pussy was too much as Loki came urgently inside her, biting Asta's neck to keep from howling his pleasure like a wolf- 'Wolf,' he thought, 'I wonder if I could change Asta with me and take her in wolf form?'

This sent her dark husband into another intense finish, shoving up as high as he could go inside her. The pain/pleasure of his coming was just about to tip Asta into hers, when Sif's shrill voice intruded. "-why is everyone treating her like a hero when she failed to hold against the Black Court? King Angrim was already inside her from what I heard, and-"

Thor did something he'd never done in his 1,700 years of life. He raised one huge hand and slapped a woman, slapped his longtime friend and ally across the face. "You will NEVER speak of the Lady Asta in such a way again, or I will banish you from this court. You have no idea what she suffered." He turned and left, Sif staring after him, hand held to her burning cheek before whirling and racing off in the opposite direction.

Asta was frozen in place, the pleasurable pursuit of her own orgasm lost. Loki gritted his teeth, longing to step out and beat Sif to a pulp. "Is that-" the girl stopped and licked suddenly dry lips. "Is that what everyone thinks?" she asked, horrified and ashamed.

Gently pulling out of her and setting their clothes to rights, Loki kissed her. "No, darling, no! Sif is an envious cunt who can't keep her mouth shut." Guiding her back to their room, Asta clung to his hard shoulders blindly as he kissed and soothed her, murmuring scraps of endearments until she fell asleep.

The nightmare was back- standing in the utter ruin of the battlefield as Surtur's Demons feasted on the fallen. His urine-yellow eyes turned to her as he chuckled, black bile spilling from his twisted mouth. "Soon, Progeny, soon."

Sitting up in bed, Asta muffled her scream in the velvet cover. Shuddering, she looked to her side to see her husband's side was empty. Then, she heard his deep, resonant voice in the bathing chamber. Smiling, Asta scrubbed a hand against her wet eyes. She would surprise him, perhaps they could take a bath together. As her bare feet crept forward, her smile faded. Her knowledge of magic was confined mainly to what Loki taught her, but Asta knew she was hearing a contraception spell.

"Y-you do not wish to have children?" Loki whirled to see his wife, tears glimmering in those amber eyes.

"No, sweet girl, it's not that-" he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "My love, we need to take care of you first-" Asta's hand went up defensively to the healing scars on her arms. Light Elves would heal without scarring or disfigurement from any wound that didn't actually kill them, but Asta was still regaining her strength.

"I'm fine," she muttered, looking away.

"Come," Loki not quite ordered, "come to bed. We'll speak again in the morning."

Lying beside her husband as he slept, Asta wondered if he thought she'd failed to hold against the Dark King, too.

Called to the Queen's chambers for lunch the next day, Asta smiled when appropriate, laughed and nodded. Finally, Frigga put down her tea. "My dear, you just laughed when I mentioned the casualty rates in Vanaheim."

The blood drained from her daughter in law's face in horror. "Your Grace, I am so very sorry! I didn't-"

Frigga took her hands, squeezing them warmly. "It's fine, Asta. I knew you weren't listening. Tell me- why won't you call me Mother? Or even Frigga?"

"it would- it would be inappropriate. You are the Queen."

Frigga laughed. "Dear child, you do not think I feel the same things you do? Hurt and cry?" The Queen's lovely face sobered. "I lost two babies to miscarriage before I gave birth to Thor. It can never compare with what you have endured- no, don't shake your head, darling it's true. I can't imagine what you've suffered to return to us. But I see a girl I consider my daughter refusing to forgive herself."

Asta's face crumpled, as desperately as she tried to keep a semblance of dignity. A torrent of tears flowed from her, bent head and shoulders shaking.

Frigga took the girl's wet face in her hands. "You survived unimaginable horrors, my child. But it cannot help but change you, as it's changed my son. I think for the better, in Loki's case." she sobered as Asta began weeping again.

"Loki- he- last night he uttered a spell, a..." The Princess stopped. Was this something one discussed with the Queen of Asgard?

"A contraception spell?" Frigga asked, putting her out of her misery.

Asta nodded, head sunk in embarrassment.

Frigga sighed. "My dear, after my miscarriages, the Healers told Odin we were not to even be intimate while my body was healing, much less attempt pregnancy right away!"

Her daughter in law groaned, this couldn't get much worse.

"We ignored them, of course," Frigga casually continued, enjoying just slightly the girl's utter mortification. "The ah... intimate part. But my body was not ready yet for another child. And nor is yours." Now the Queen Mother was stern. "You endured the curse of the Mad Titan who stole your children. You endured torture for week after week. And you think you're ready?"

Asta wept brokenly. "I miss them so much. I want them to come back..." She couldn't say more, and Frigga's eyes filled as well.

"I know, my daughter. I do."

Walking back to her quarters, Asta smiled happily. The Queen- rather, Mother- had embraced her and sternly commanded that she call her Mother. The word felt strange on her lips- Mother. This was the first time she'd ever been able to call someone that precious word. Hand absently smoothing her flat belly, Asta wondered if she would ever hear someone call her Mother. Shaking her head, the Princess moved faster. She had plans for this evening, and they didn't involve self-pity.

Loki returned to their quarters later than usual, so exhausted from combat practice that he couldn't even transport himself. Opening the huge doors, he called from habit- "Asta? Where are you, darling?"

His wife grinned in the other room. It was always a code between them. If he called for "Asta," he was feeling tender. If Loki called out "little girl," it would be a night of delicious depravity.

Wearily opening the inner doors, her dark husband arched a brow. There was a sumptuous dinner on the table, fire crackling. Asta was wearing what looked to be a delightfully flimsy gown, she was smiling in that unfair combination of seduction and innocence she knew he could never resist. "My Intended," she purred, "would you like to eat or bathe first?" Loki looked at his exquisite wife. Damn her.

Smiling as Asta massaged his scalp as she bathed him, the Prince settled his head more comfortably between her breasts. "I'm guessing then, that lunch with my Mother went well?" he urged.

Her fingers paused. "Was that your idea?" Asta asked.

"No," he yawned, "strictly my Mother's wish, I assure you."

"Would you... would you mind if I called the Queen, Mother?"

Stretching one long leg over the other, Loki asked, "Call her? For what?"

Fingers paused again. "What?"

"What did you- wait, what are we talking about?" Loki was too relaxed and starting to be turned on to figure this out. "Start over, darling."

"Oh!" His wife started laughing, which made those lovely breasts bounce against his head in a rather delightful way. "Frigga asked me to call her Mother. Would that be all right? I don't want to overstep a boundary."

Her dark husband turned around, arching his long back and placing kisses over her collarbones. "My Mother has been asking you to call her such since we married. Of course, I'm pleased." Loki's mouth dropped lower to those pink tipped breasts. "Now that we've settled that question, may we leave off discussing my Mother? I'd like to fuck you, little girl. Discussing my parentage takes me somewhat out of the mood."

Asta's laugh turned into a choking gasp as her husband's wicked mouth settled over her nipple, biting it gently as his fingers pinched the other one. "T-that would be... oh!... that would be fine."

Making love in the tub graduated to Loki lifting his bride to the stone wall of their terrace, the robe she wore slipping off her shoulders and puddling around her bottom. Stifling a gasp as he slid his cool shaft back into her, Asta wrapped her legs around his waist, tightening them as he leaned her back, long hair trailing over the bannister. Looking down, Loki enjoyed the sight of his cock spreading her open, those pink walls stretching against him like it was the first time he'd taken her, feeling that hitch in his beautiful wife's breath as he tore her barrier. "Do you remember that first night?" he whispered, biting her ear.

"Mmmm... our wedding night?" she gasped, Loki perversely pleased that she didn't stop clutching at his muscled back as he stroked in and out of her.

"Yes, little girl," he said encouragingly. "I never thought anything could feel as good as pushing inside you for the first time, this sweet little quim feeling like fire around my cock..." He was speeding up, but Asta moaned as her dark husband began idly tapping her sensitive clitoris, tapping, then circling it with one icy finger.

She hated him briefly. Loki knew she couldn't resist it when he spoke to her in that low, persuasive tone, the kind of tone used when someone wants a good girl to do something very naughty. He grinned, watching her nipples tighten in the night air. "But then," her dark husband continued, "but then I discovered, darling..." A harder push, those slim hips of his circling and snapping against her in that lovely, knowing way. "...then I discovered that every time inside you was better than the last- those long legs wrapping around me, pushing those silky feet of yours against my ass? How your hands start scratching against me like a greedy little cat, demanding more?" His dark, sinuous voice poured through her, sparking her nerve endings and making his sweet wife shake with the effort of not coming without permission.

Loki gave a cruel little chuckle. "Did you need something, darling?"

"Please, my beautiful husband! I- I really need to-"

"Ask me nicely," he purred into Asta's ear, spitefully speeding up his thrusts, finger tapping insistently on her uncomfortably aroused bundle of nerves.

Gathering what was left of her scattered brain cells, she managed to croon into his ear, "Daddy, please? I need you so much." She had him. Asta smiled, feeling a rare sense of power as Loki's growl signaled his coming, followed by hers- his long, cool fingers extending it until Asta moaned, "please stop... please Daddy..."

Chuckling smugly, Loki wrapped his arms against his shaking wife. She was better now, he could feel it.

Asta clung to him as her husband whispered his love for her against her neck, kissing it as he came down. This was better, she smiled, they were better.

And Thor leaned against the stone bench in the garden beneath their balcony, thoughtfully observing the pale line of Asta's back and her silky tumbling hair.

Notes:

Everyone okay? We all good? Anyone need a Xanax after those last few chapters? I've got a couple left from a stressful plane flight…


	28. I Held Fast

In which everyone hates everything, and doubt sprouts like Bishop's weed.

Trigger warnings for mention of torture.

Notes:

Bishop's weed. Such a mess. And you can't kill it. Not even with fire. I've tried, believe me.

Chapter Text

As the skies continued to darken over the Free Realms, Asta and Loki were even more grateful to be reunited. The skirmishes along Vanaheim were more savage now, causing more casualties. But still... "This is a distraction," Odin said flatly. The question is, what are they distracting us from?"

Loki shrugged tiredly. "The Black Court is destroyed, but there's still Dark Elves everywhere. The dwarves are creating weapons for the other side faster than we can crush the raids. And the Mad Titan is... somewhere."

To their mutual reluctance, Loki and Thor were sent on missions again. Both hated leaving Asgard defenseless- at least without _their_ defense.

Asta's forehead was pressed against that of her husband's, his hands twining through her long braids. "I'll be home as soon as I can," he promised, long fingers tightening in frustration. She forced a smile.

"I know, my Intended. We'll be fine here. You must have a care for your safety, please?" Loki's eyes dropped shut as his wife left sweet kisses all over his face. "Just come home safe to me."

She'd forgotten how intensely green his eyes were- the depth of the forest, the translucence of an emerald. His gaze seared through hers. "I don't want to leave you." He confessed. "I know you're safest here, but-"

Asta dropped her head against his hard chest. "I know." She sighed. "I feel being separate weakens us. But I'll be here. Come home. As an Aesir. As a Jotunn- as a wolf," she laughed, then sobered. "Just come home to me."

Thor was busy with last minute orders, but somehow heard every word between his brother and his beautiful wife. Casting his blue eyes through the crowded courtyard, the God of Thunder knew there was a contingent of ladies there to "wish him farewell," with a kiss, a gift or a quick romp behind the stables. But a vision with eyes for nothing but him? Turning his blonde head, Thor abruptly issued orders to be ready as his large mitt latched on to the first interested female and took her against the wall of the barn, smelling straw and manure but picturing the face of his sister in law.

Frigga wisely kept Asta busy, plotting new trips and trying to keep the civilian population confident. They discovered quickly that these outings were not as successful. Asta loathed the pitying looks and downcast eyes as she passed by. Now, she thought bitterly, she was only a symbol of what they'd lost.

Hidden back in the palace, the Princess labored in the gardens, trying to come up with new and even more effective medications. Pausing under the blazing sun, even Asta had to wipe her brow, scowling at the three assistants who were meant to help her. "Ladies!" She snapped. "You're hardly effective hiding under that tree." The courtiers were startled. Lady Asta never raised her voice.

Reluctantly returning to work, one hissed to the others, "Apparently the Dark King took her patience along with her twins."

Asta's fingers clawed in the dirt, desperate to spin and beat the woman half to death. Suddenly shaking, she stood, waving the others away. Other than in her hellish captivity in the Black Court, she'd never wished ill upon another. But she wanted to kill that vicious little bitch! Rubbing her temples, Asta returned to her rooms.

But the Progeny wasn't the only one feeling angry and malicious. As the miserable heat continued, tempers were short. There were fights, beatings, even fatalities in circles the Guard would never have seen them before. Odin even canceled the group dinners meant to bring people together because they tended to end in a brawl.

To Asta's resentment, Thor returned first from his patrol. She'd heard the hubbub in the courtyard and raced downstairs, hoping to see Loki there. Seeing her brother in law's bearded face and flinching against his loud, booming laugh, she actually turned to leave before greeting him.

"Asta, wait!" The God of Thunder gracefully swung off his horse, striding to meet her and lift her into the air. "Are you well!?" Thor's huge smile was not inappropriate, but his gigantic paws held her too tightly and the Princess forced a smile.

"Quite well, _brother_," she emphasized, "and you? Any word from my husband?"

Thor had the grace to look down. "Nothing yet- but you know Loki is capable of anything and everything to prevail."

"Yes," sniped Asta, glaring at the Warriors Three and Sif, returning home as well. "Yes, IF he has troops loyal to him." She turned and left before she could say anything worse, the five of them quiet in her wake.

It seemed everyone's hidden resentments and petty jealousies swarmed to the surface like a swarm of toxic bees. Even the Allmother was not immune. Listening to two noblewomen snipe their grievance about each other finally made Frigga angrily wave her hand. "Enough! The world at war and you two bickering over your children's failed engagement? I should send you to the medical tents on the battlefield to empty slop jars!"

Asta quickly dismissed the women and the rest of the courtiers, stunned into silence. "Mother," she ventured cautiously, "why don't you rest? The petty squabbles can wait another day-"

"They're not petty when they can grow into armed clashes, Asta!" The Queen's head shot up, suddenly furious with her _stupid_ daughter in law, what did the girl know about settling small disputes before they became cataclysmic ones- stupid, _stupid_ girl- Frigga froze in shock, seeing the look of alarm and hurt on Asta's face and realizing she'd spoken aloud. Her hands fluttered to her mouth in horror. "My daughter, I am so sorry- I don't... I don't know what came over me."

Tears in her eyes, Asta stoutly shook her head. "You must be so frustrated with us all- I understand, Mother."

The Queen shook her exhausted head. "It's more than that. It seems as if everyone's little faults seem to magnify and enrage those around them- like they've lost their minds..." The two women came to the same conclusion at once, hurrying down the hall to prove their theory.

"The evidence is clear, Allfather." Asta's musical voice rang in the War Council. "We've spoken to Healers and sorcerers across Asgard. There's something foul in the air, like a poison."

"A neurotoxin, perhaps," added Frigga. "It blooms with the heat and affects everyone. This is why we're seeing so much violence. It's a way to weaken us from within."

Odin rubbed his forehead. The dark cavity behind his eyepatch was throbbing mercilessly, and the high-pitched voices of these women were making it worse. "All very well," he said abruptly. "When you can actually find something to remedy the toxin, you can return. Now leave us."

Asta froze at the insult, even more mortified for her mother in law. The Allmother stood deathly still for a moment, watching her husband continue as if she didn't exist. With a furious swirl of her skirts, she was gone, Asta trotting after her.

All this the Princess could have handled with grace- it was nothing, after all, compared to what she'd endured at the hands of the Black Court. But the nightmares returned in full force, Asta waking from another and another, shuddering and burying her screams into her pillows until she wept with loneliness, looking at the empty space next to her.

Unfortunately, things were not better with Loki. He was an excellent Commander and a better spy. But there was nothing- no news, no Intel or captured agents to question. Rubbing his brow at another fruitless meeting with the Vanaheim forces, he almost missed the complaint. "-But your very wife was deep in the Black Court's confidence for weeks! She has nothing to offer to help us?"

Loki's hand jerked away from his forehead. "What did you just say?"

The Vanaheim General back-pedaled hastily. "Your Grace! No insult intended, we just thought-"

"My wife," Loki clarified in a low and vicious tone, "was a captive to King Angrim and tortured, beaten and savaged every day of her imprisonment by the Dark Elves. Agonies that would have left you a gibbering madman, _General_. Now leave my sight before I behead you for your abject stupidity."

The Prince ignored the apologies and bowing as the military advisors left the room. Slamming his fist on the table, Loki stood and paced the room. Why did everyone speak as if his wife had thrown in with that bastard Angrim and his revolting court? They all kept assuming... rubbing his eyes, trying to make up for no sleep and a blazing headache, he stubbornly went over the border map again.

Asta had taken to wandering the halls of the castle as before, trying to outrun her nightmares and her fears in Loki's absence. It was thus that Thor found her one night, wringing her hands, staring out from a huge terrace outside Odin's throne room. "Sister," he said, trying to keep his voice under a shout. "Why are you up at this hour?"

Asta was just exhausted and afraid enough to welcome his company. "It's nothing, brother. I- I don't sleep well when Loki is gone." Thor carefully placed his big mitt on her shoulder, patting her and nearly knocking her over in the attempt.

"I'm sorry you're worried, but it's all in vain, I promise. My brother always returns," he assured, "always here for the spoils." His tone was bitter, more than Thor knew.

Asta looked up sharply. "What does that mean?"

Taking her arm to link it through his, Thor continued their walk, feeling more like the God of Lies than the God of Thunder. "I meant no disrespect," he assured her. "You know your husband for good and bad. Loki just...well, he takes his rewards as he requires them. A man exhausted by war and stealth takes comfort. It's to restore his senses... to focus."

His large-footed gait was halted as his sister in law stopped dead in her tracks. "Speak plainly, _brother_." Asta's teeth were clenched. "What are you trying to say about my Intended?"

Thor's big blue eyes were not as guileless as he'd like. "Nothing, Asta! I'm sure he's changed, he's not like that now-"

"Like what?" Later, she would curse herself for even continuing this ridiculous exchange.

Dipping his head, silky blonde locks drifting over his brow, Thor sighed. "I will only say this. If I had been given the honor of you standing before me that day, choosing me- I would never stray. You are all that I dream of, Asta. You are an angel."

The Progeny pushed away from Thor angrily. How dare he? How dare Loki's own brother say such lies- Suddenly, Asta recalled touching her husband's desk that night, smelling that bitch Sif on him, on what belonged to her-

Thor took advantage of her momentary distraction. "Asta, my angel. I love you. I always have. Let me protect you. Let me repay you for saving my life, you are..." He couldn't think of anything to say, staring into her astonished golden gaze, those perfect pink lips parted in shock. He leaned down and greedily pressed his mouth against hers, frantically slanting lips and tongue as if trying to drag her under before she stopped him. By Molinjer, she tasted so good- her sweet mouth everything-

"Stop! Thor- damn you- STOP!" Dimly, the God of Thunder, Odin's firstborn, the Golden Heir of Asgard heard Asta's objections but clutched her slim waist tightly, sure he could overpower them. Her furious fist into his left eye slowed him down just enough for his shaking sister in law to push away. "How _dare_ you!" Asta hissed. "I endured torture- I- I held, I held fast against King Angrim and you try to seduce me with your cheap tricks!" Asta furiously ripped open her robe to bare her neck. "He- he had them slit my throat...laughing with his court as I choked and gasped until it healed enough for me to breathe. SIX TIMES!" she suddenly screamed, unable to stop herself. "And I held fast, I- I- I- know what they say but I never gave in!" Asta suddenly seemed to deflate. "I didn't. Just to come home to have my brother in law assume I was a foolish whore." She buried her head in her hands, unable to speak any longer.

The red mist cleared enough for Thor to see what he'd attempted. "Oh, gods, Asta... I'm so sorry." Watching her begin to sob, he gathered her in his giant arms. "Don't- oh, please don't cry! I am not skilled in calming weeping ladies!" Feeling her exhausted body slump against him, Thor tenderly kissed her forehead, "forgive me, sweet sister. I'm so sorry to make you feel this way." He was still holding Asta against him when he finally heard them call.

"Your Grace!" Thor could tell the greeting had been repeated several times. It was Fandral, shouting up from the courtyard. "Your brother- Prince Loki, he's returned!" Dimly, he felt Asta tear herself from his embrace and race for the stairs. Trying to gather his senses, he looked down to see his four oldest friends staring up at him. Staring, for the first time he could remember, with suspicion and doubt.


	29. The Spy Speaks

In which Odin is an asshole, not all Dark Elves are evil, Asta nearly cuts a bitch, and Loki learns something about asking the hard questions at the right place and the right time.

Notes:

Things are about to get crazy- in a good way! -soon, so enjoy a sort of lovey-dovey interlude.

Chapter Text

Asta's feet knew this path by heart: through the Great Hall, down three huge flights of winding stairs and across the marble terrace to the courtyard. Eagerly scanning the horses, she recognized the dark head of her husband towering over the others.

"My Intended!" Loki looked up to see Asta dodging through the milling horses. The first real smile of this miserable campaign spread across his pale face as the Prince bent to lift his wife, crushing her against him. Burying his nose into her fragrant hair, Loki sighed deeply.

"My beautiful Asta," her dark husband groaned. "Sweetest girl-" Loki's brow suddenly furrowed as he smelled something just under Asta's scent. Leather, sweat, and... Thor. Emerald eyes narrowed, he leaned back to see Asta do the same, scenting the air and looking around her.

An inarticulate scream of rage rose through the air as the gracious Lady Asta ripped a knife from her husband's belt and raced at a cloaked figure behind him. Arm raised to strike, she screamed, "You will die, demon! Filth! Dark Elf scum-"

Loki sighed and hooked out one long arm, catching his enraged wife around the waist and pulling the knife from her grasp as she collided with the figure. The cloak fell as the figure stumbled to reveal a tall Dark Elf- a woman who gazed at them with a mixture of amusement and contempt. A low, angry murmur swept through the crowd. "Not how I wished to introduce you," he said to the woman, keeping his clawing wife from her. Thor and the Warriors Three pushed through the group to circle the Dark Elf. "Brother," Loki said urgently, "she is an ally. Take her to get settled. One of you must guard her at all times." He looked meaningfully at his thrashing wife and the cold, angry expressions around them.

Thor nodded and told the Elf curtly, "Put your cloak back on."

Loki stumbled slightly under Asta's enraged thrashing. Realizing she was in no state to listen to reason, he simply threw her over one shoulder, striding through the chuckling crowd. Back in their chambers, the Prince put her on the bed and summoned two clones to hold her as he gratefully seated himself, arching his sore back. Waiting for her to slow down, he finally inquired, "are you prepared to listen?"

Asta's response was muffled by one of the clone's arm. "Yes! But get these things off me!"

Loki waved an elegant hand and they disappeared. "Come here and sit on my lap, darling."

Shoving her ebony curls out of her face, Asta sulkily said, "No!"

"Really..." She looked up suddenly. The Princess knew that low, silky tone. It never boded well for her. Loki's pale face looked like it was carved from granite. "Did I really hear you say 'no' to Daddy, little girl? Did you lose your manners while I was gone?"

Standing and smoothing her dressing gown, Asta walked over. Slowly, just to show she felt like it. Just within reach of her dark husband, Asta felt herself thrown over his lap, skirts up and the first sharp slap across her soft bottom in rapid succession. "Ow! Ooooo! Loki, stop!"

Another slap, this time on the other buttock. Loki admired his matching handprints as she yelped angrily. "I can do this all night, Pet." He smoothed his cool palm over the abused area. "Though I had planned for more pleasant activities." After nothing but angry silence, that huge hand came down in rapid succession, three on each side and a particularly nasty one just under her ass. "Now?"

Asta was angrily trying to stifle her sobs and having limited success. This wasn't the homecoming she'd planned on, either. "Yes. I'm- I'm sorry Daddy."

Loki pulled her upright and settled her leaning on one hip on his lap. Kissing the tear tracks on her flushed cheeks, he soothed his sniffling wife for a moment. "Do you feel ready to listen?"

A sniff, then "Yes, Daddy."

"Such a good girl," he hummed, kissing her lips. "I'm sorry, sweet girl. I know that was a horrible shock. I'd hoped to take you aside to explain privately, but I underestimated your keen sense of smell." Asta let out a sigh, laying her head against his hard chest, smelling the dirt of the road and his comforting scent. "Alaryah is a spy for the Black Court. She surrendered to us and requested sanctuary. Her knowledge of the movements of the enemy is invaluable. This could be the turning point in our war. Can you avoid killing her for a while?"

"I can try," Asta agreed sullenly.

"Good," soothed her dark husband, who was absorbed in undoing all the tiny buttons on the front of her nightwear. "Because I have far more interesting plans..." Those gold eyes fluttered shut and his Asta sighed, stretching closer to his face. Sliding one big hand inside to cup a breast, Loki whispered, "I think you should draw us a bath, so we can clean each other- and then I'll make you all dirty again..." A gentle squeeze from his hand holding her made Asta moan and stretch against him like a cat, almost purring in appreciation.

Asgard's Prince and Princess bathed each other, carefully washing away the toils of the road and that disgusting whiff of Dark Elf. Loki ran his long fingers through her hair, washing, and rinsing until she smelled as she should- the way Asta always did- of rainwater and flowers. Abruptly seating her on marble side of the bath, Loki inserted his wide shoulders between her thighs, preventing her from closing her legs as he sank lower in the water, idly viewing her most private places with a filthy grin. "Little girl, I do think you've re-grown your virginity, it's been so long since I've been between these tender thighs." He ran the chilly pointed tip of his tongue between her swelling lips, tickling her clit into emerging. "The taste of you," he groaned, "so sweet." Putting his entire freezing contingent of lips and tongue against her pussy, greedily biting, then sucking all the parts of her usually hidden away. "Ah, ah!" he chided as Asta tried to close her legs, "These lovely, silky bits are mine. You will not hide them from me. Open wider." Loki watched, amused as his shy wife covered her face with her hands as she obeyed him. Delving further into Asta's pussy, her dark husband watched for the signs she was close. Hands shaking, grasping at his hair, knees clenching, trying to close...'Ah,' he thought, 'there we are...' Slipping two cool fingers inside that molten softness, Loki murmured, "darling, are you close?" Asta's moans and whimpers were answer enough. "Tell Daddy, angel. Tell Daddy why you smell like my oaf of a brother." Her heaving chest slowed.

"You want to talk about that _now_?" Asta moaned, so very close to completion under Loki's wicked tongue.

"Yes, little girl, Daddy definitely wants to know why his bride smells like she's been under the Firstborn of Asgard." He anticipated her angry reaction- her loosened legs stiffening and abruptly sitting up.

Loki didn't, however, anticipate her hips sliding sideways, bypassing his wide shoulders to clench those delightfully strong thighs around his neck: tightly, surprisingly strong, he thought as his windpipe was reduced by half. "Are you accusing me of laying with Thor, my Intended?"

The Prince of Lies already knew his beloved wife hadn't- he just wanted to know why that blonde oaf's scent clouded her clean one. But judging by the barely compressed fury of her tight mouth, he'd presented his question in the wrong way, and definitely at the wrong time. "No, darling." Loki soothed, "I know without question your fidelity. But... you smelled of him, all the same. Why?"

Her lean thighs tightened again, making his breath that much more difficult to draw. "Because there's a neurotoxin that blooms with this cursed heat that makes everyone act on their worst impulses and Thor told me you were fornicating with everything in the Nine Realms and that he loved me and then he tried to kiss me and-" Given her grip around his neck, Loki only heard every other word but gathered there was a toxin, Thor claimed he was betraying his wife and that his worthless swine of a brother attempted to seduce his Asta.

"Darling, my angel- ASTA! Remove your legs from my head!" Startled, she did as he asked, closing her legs and drawing her knees up to her chest. Dipping his head underwater to clear it, Loki ran his hand over his face. "Allow me to be clear on the key points." She nodded encouragingly. "There is a heat-related curse adding to our woes. Thor, supposedly caught in this web attempted to convince you that I was unfaithful." Another nod from his wife. "And then the man I'm about to kill kissed you."

"Those are the basics," Asta agreed. Gripping the stone edge of the pool and pulverizing it, her dark husband continued with a tic in his gritted jaw.

"And what happened then, my darling wife?" Loki's voice was more growl than spoken word, and Asta uneasily wondered if his wolf transformation was sometimes involuntary. "WELL?"

Jumping a little, she looked back to see a golden glint in his emerald eyes. "Then I punched him in the eye and he let go and apologized."

Loki blinked and started laughing uproariously. "You punched the God of Thunder in the EYE? And he gave up just like that?" Puzzled but relieved that her husband wasn't going to transform into a wolf while in their bathing pool, Asta nodded vigorously.

Springing out of six feet of water and over her, Loki thrust into his wife just as his tongue entered her mouth, and there was no more to say.

Lying together in their large and comfortable bed, Loki groaned in pleasure, kissing her breasts as they pillowed his head. "After weeks of sleeping on the ground, this is Valhalla."

Asta smiled, stroking his hair. "I can imagine a bed would be preferable."

"I wasn't speaking of the bed." Loki's response was muffled by her warm breasts, and she laughed, jolting his head. But he didn't complain, Asta realized the exhausted God was already asleep.

Alaryah casually took another sip of wine, eyeing a stone-faced Thor seated across her. Her guest chamber was large and surprisingly comfortable, considering some here in Asgard would consider her a prisoner of war, such as the angry God of Thunder seated at her table.

"Will you be glaring at me all night?" she inquired, popping another grape in her mouth.

Thor shrugged his massive shoulders. "Until my brother can give me a good enough reason not to tear you into pieces."

Alaryah laughed, in the same musical quality as Asta, but... in reverse, he thought. "You could try, Prince. But I think the intelligence I can offer on the demons and the Mad Titan is worth more than your petty revenge."

"Petty?" Thor repeated with gritted teeth.

With a graceful shrug, the Dark Elf stood from the table, strolling over to the bed. "Princess Asta, of course. I was not at court during her stay. But I know there was no mercy shown." She began to undress as Thor seethed, longing to swing Mjölnir and crush her vile skull.

"Her STAY? Do not soil the name of my sister in law, witch! Her torture and the tearing of her sons from her womb- is not a stay." Thor's fist tightened, longing to smash something to pieces.

"As you wish," yawned Alaryah, dropping the last of her clothing and climbing into bed nude. Within moments, she was asleep, leaving an open-mouthed God of Thunder to process the dark magnificence of her naked body.

Loki woke before the sun rose the next morning, nudged awake by his wife's mouth on his rapidly stiffening cock. "Mmmm... little girl," he groaned, "how nice to know you missed me, too."

Asta's hand slid teasingly up his flat stomach, pausing to pinch his nipple. He growled warningly, but the near-boiling temperature of her mouth was too distracting. Loki lifted his head to see his wife's beautiful body in the half-light before dawn, her sleek back and tempting bottom rising up a bit as she angled to fit more of his swollen cock in her mouth. To his considerable appreciation, Loki found Asta was an enthusiastic and willing student from the beginning in the Oral Arts, and delightfully innovative too. Using her fingers, silky hair and wildly fluttering tongue, he knew he couldn't hold out for long. When the Princess felt that first throb that meant he was coming, she arched her neck to slide him further down her throat, pulling on his scrotum ensnared in her smooth locks as Loki came. "Ah! Fuck- You treacherous little-" he felt the vibrations of her silent laughter on his sensitive cock, making him groan and shudder pleasurably. Panting as his hand stroked his wife's silky cheek, even the cynical Prince of Lies believed all things were possible.

Loki's optimism died fairly quickly during the first War Council with Alaryah. There was no welcome for the Dark Elf, the cruel work of the Black Court spoke for itself. But the elf handled it admirably. "I know you hate me," she said bluntly. "I know why. But not all the Dark Elves are mad, like our King. Ragnarök is not survivable. Any fool- at least a sane one- knows this."

Asta sat at the table as she always had until the heat madness shut Odin up with his few trusted advisors. Loki asked her to watch for inconsistencies in the Dark Elf's testimony. She smiled up at his stern face with joy. It felt so good to be useful again. The woman spoke confidently, and as much as the Progeny wanted to disprove anything Alaryah said, she had to admit it was consistent with what she knew from both her captivity and get nightmares, though she didn't share the latter. Asta did watch with some amusement at Thor's grim expression and the actual vibrations of hate from Sif and the Warriors Three. None of that seemed to trouble their new ally, who confidently passed off troop formations and battle plans. But then the news became much worse.

"The Mad Titan was inconsolable with rage when the Black Court fell," the woman said flatly. "He and Surtur have conspired to refresh the troops with something much worse. They have found a way to raise the Undead."

The color drained from Asta and Frigga's faces as they looked at each other in horror. There was no defense, no fighting the monstrous creatures. Putting them down made killing the Dark Elves look like child's play.

Alaryah waited calmly until the hubbub around the table quieted. "We hoped that the Light Elves might provide some answers since they are our opposite." She looked pointedly as Asta, who narrowed her eyes in return.

"I can travel to Alfheim today to speak to King Leafstred and his advisors," Asta offered immediately. "I know there is a single spell that acts as a thread to hold movement within them. But it is Dark Magic. I will need to find the scholars at the White Court who know more."

After another three hours of questioning, Asta had to admit that- as much as she still hated her- the Dark Elf was truly seeking an alliance with the few sane members in the Dark Realms- as the allies of the Mad Titan were now known. "I can find no inconsistency in her information," she said during a break in the interrogation. Only Odin, Thor and Loki remained in the Allfather's chambers. "I don't trust her- I can't- I've seen too much of their sick games. But she's not insane. And I believe she's telling the truth." She looked up to see Odin irritably rubbing under his eyepatch. Something burned and twisted there, the King thought, like a snake eating its way through his brain-

"You will leave immediately for Alfheim," he ordered. "Return with everyone with knowledge of the Undead, and request the King's presence as well."

"I do not think King Leafstred will leave, Allfather," Asta spoke carefully, watching his angry face. "The border raids on Alfheim require his-"

"Did I tell you to disagree with me!" shouted Odin. Dead silence fell over the three young people in front of him. Loki's eyes narrowed and he leaned forward, but Asta caught his eye, shaking her head pleadingly.

Forcing his tone to sound reasonable, Loki addressed the Allfather. "Very well, we'll leave this very afternoon."

Odin angrily waved away his offer. "I need you here for the Dark bitch. You have more experience with her." He looked up, his blue eye ablaze with fury. "Do you all place the safety of Asgard against your childish desire to defy me?" He knew very well not one of the three would accept such a taunt. Thor bowed and took his leave to guard the Dark Elf, Loki and Asta to prepare for her trip to Alfheim.

"That arrogant old bastard!" hissed Loki, angrily pacing their bedroom. "How dare he order you in harm's way-"

Still packing for her trip, Asta sighed, coming behind her husband to lay her cheek against his back. "I will not be in any peril, my Intended. Heimdall will see me straight to the palace. I'll be back before I'm missed-"

"Don't say that!" Loki hissed, "As if you hadn't already given more than anyone here..." Amber eyes looked up to his furious emerald ones, Asta worried that he wasn't allowing his loss of his sons to register.

"But you've also given everything, my dear husband, these were your sons, too-"

Loki suddenly kissed her frantically, gently pushing her to their bed and only untying what was needed to allow him passage inside her. "Shhhh... just let me love you, my angel. I can't stand to be apart from you yet again..." Asta gasped as he shoved her silks aside to push inside her, but she held on to his broad shoulders, feeling the burn of his leather armor against her smooth stomach and the chafing of his trousers between her thighs. Her silk walls moistened eagerly as that generous cock pushed its way through her, her Intended gripping her hips so tight she knew she'd be wearing bruises tomorrow. "Like touching the sun..." Loki groaned, so close to coming. Sweat dripped down his face and on to Asta. She blinked in shock, realizing she'd never seen her husband sweat- ever. But the hellish heat wave and the toxic bloom it brought was settled like a malevolent caress over Asgard. So omnipresent that even the Prince's Johtunn blood was no longer enough to hold his equilibrium. But she wrapped her legs around him, still whispering her love and gritting her teeth against the force of her husband's desperate thrusts.


	30. The Hard Truth

In which Asta and Loki have a showdown. And a revelation.

Trigger warning for verbal abuse and very bad words. But if you've read even one chapter of anything I've written, you know there's always very bad words.

Notes:

We're back to a hard moment or two, but I think you'll find by the end of the chapter it was worth it.

Chapter Text

When Asta returned to Asgard a mere 48 hours later, it seemed the palace woes had increased a thousand-fold in her absence. The heat smothered her like a living thing the moment Heimdell brought her off the Rainbow Bridge. "It's so much worse!" she gasped to the golden-eyed gatekeeper. He nodded solemnly, eyes already trained to the distance. Loosening the high neck of her dress, Asta mounted her horse for a ride to the palace. Looking around her, the Princess could see the curse's influence increased with the heat. Instead of the smiles and greetings the beloved Lady Asta usually received, there was bitterness and hostility from townsfolk.

Ushering the delegates from King Leafstred into Odin's council chambers, Asta could see the toll the sweltering misery was taking on her family. Thor and Loki were divested of their armor- formal dress clearly suspended. A hiss from the Light Elf next to her alerted her to Alaryah's presence, the Dark Elf still looking cool and calm. "At last!" Odin growled gratefully. "I see your King could not be bothered to join us."

The chief advisor from the Ljósálfar tightened his lips but bowed deeply. "His Grace sends his apologies, but the attacks on our northern borders have increased. He was needed there."

The Allfather grunted tiredly but nodded his head. "Send the Dark Elf out, she doesn't need to be here for this discussion." Thor stood, wiping his sweating forehead, but Sif moved behind Alaryah's chair. "I'll take her, you're needed here." The Prince grunted his thanks and sat down heavily. Asta quietly seated herself, noting that other than a smile as she entered, her husband made no effort to be closer to her. The Princess also noted she was the only woman in the room. It was unusual- there was always a Healer or two, female scientists and advisors, and of course: the Queen.

"The spread of this terrible heat at the corresponding curse has traveled more quickly than we'd calculated," one of the Ljósálfar scientists said ruefully. "It began, of course, in Vanaheim-"

"The riots there have spiraled out of control," Loki interrupted. "I spoke with a messenger from the King's Guard this morning, they're asking for more troops." Half the table scoffed at the notion, including her dark husband. Asta's brow rose at the indifference. Asgard always went to an ally's aid.

"Tracking the spread of the weather pattern," the advisor continued. "Alfheim is next-"

"And welcome to it!" announced an angry voice from the back.

"Our suggestion," the lead delegate stepped in smoothly, "was to take the population from some of the hardest hit areas here and in Vanaheim and bring them to Alfheim to spare them-"

"And leave our borders unprotected?" This time it was Loki to rudely interrupt. "What a sound military strategy, Counsellor."

Shifting miserably, Asta sent a silent apology to the Light Elf. 'You see the toll of this curse,' she thought, 'please excuse their rudeness.'

The delegate inclined his head slightly, thanking her. Loki watched the exchange with narrowed eyes. His wife had the gall to communicate with another man in their way? He was suddenly, unreasonably furious at Asta, and turned his gaze away when her eyes sought his.

"The thought of the science council was to create pockets of relief from the heat and these spores causing so much anger and rancor." the delegate attempted to plow ahead. "Perhaps by using available shielding? Lady Asta?"

"I thought of the defense shield, Allfather," she said, looking to the head of the table. "Could we re-tune the shield to a lower frequency, enough to repel the heat and the spores without-"

Odin gave a mirthless chuckle. "Really. Drain the energy of the only defense the city has? Where are the ANSWERS you were to bring from Alfheim?" he shouted, "You're wasting our time here- just be on your way, girl." He shifted his bulk to look at the military contingent. "You'd better have answers regarding the Undead that are more useful than your science associates. Fandral, fetch the Dark Elf in again- what are you still doing here, Progeny? You were dismissed!"

To her humiliation. Asta found she was fighting back tears. Glancing at Loki found that he wasn't even paying attention to Odin's disrespect, speaking instead to one of the Light Elf Generals. Stiffly nodding, she angrily made her way from the room. A brief detour to Frigga's rooms was another dismissal, the guards politely but firmly repeating the Queen was not receiving. Anyone.

When Loki finally returned to their rooms late that night, he found his bride floating in their huge tub. Her superheated cell signature was causing her enormous discomfort. "You were not at dinner," he said shortly. "That was disrespectful." He started yanking off his clothes.

"Disrespectful is definitely the word of the day," she answered back. "The King sent his finest minds to assist, and Odin mocked their efforts."

Her dark husband scoffed and entered the pool. "Did you think those ideas held merit?"

"Yes!" Asta insisted. "I hoped you and I could discuss them together-"

"-The way you can best serve me now is with your body, little girl." he interrupted sharply. "Now, come to Daddy." Part of her wanted to hold back, but Asta allowed Loki to pull her through the water. Rather than gather her on to his lap, the Prince turned her on to her knees, entering his wife from behind. Hissing in discomfort as Loki entered her ungently, Asta felt his long fingers move to stroke her clitoris. The final insult: 'I could move the troops in Vanaheim's Capitol to the southern border if we just moved the King here for safekeeping...' Stiffening in rage, Asta realized her Intended's thoughts were nothing to do with her. She was simply... an accessory.

Resolving to wait until morning to speak with Loki, Asta fell into a fitful sleep. Her dark husband was already gone, and when she attempted to join the War Council, she was turned away at the door. There was no chance to speak with Loki all day, and he sent a curt message that night saying he would be in meetings, no need to wait up. Realizing the only women granted access to the talks were Sif and that horrid Dark Elf, Asta swallowed her pride and went in search of them the next day. Hearing the sound of laughter outside of what was supposed to be the cell of a spy, she opened the door to find Sif and Alaryah sharing a meal, thick as thieves. "Your Grace," drawled the Dark Elf, making it into an insult.

Resolving to hold her temper, Asta nodded. "When I returned after only two day's absence, it seemed as if a month of misery passed here. What are your thoughts? Do you suspect more than this poison in the heat?"

Sif knew it was wrong to be siding against a member of the Royal Family with a Dark Elf, but the memory of Thor passionately kissing the little bitch was still burned into her brain- omitting, of course- that Asta was angrily fighting him off at the time. "We've been so busy with the War Council and the threat of Ragnarök... well, I guess we haven't noticed the weather."

Asta's eyes narrowed into slits. "We're not speaking of a rainy day, Lady Sif. And the battle is immaterial if we all kill each other before the enemy does." She noticed with hate that Alaryah was smiling, enjoying the hostilities.

"Although, we did delve into the rather fascinating subject of Elven biology the other day, during council with the men." The Dark Elf was smiling maliciously. "Apparently, they didn't know an Elf- Light or Dark- cannot be forced to carry a child, they must give their consent."

The chill that went down Asta's back like a bucket of ice water would have felt wonderful in other circumstances. But here, in front of these horrible women, she could only stand frozen, feeling stripped bare.

"You should have seen Prince Loki's face," added Sif. "He looked utterly shocked."

Asta's shaking was increasing, and her hardened amber eyes turned to Alaryah. "Apparently the Black Court just can't stop its destruction," she mused. Without even anticipating it, the Princess gave Alaryah a long, cold examination before suddenly smiling.

Sif looked over as the Dark Elf grunted and dropped her wine glass, beginning to claw at her face. "Make her stop!" she shrieked, "before it all melts off!" The Elf let out an unearthly screech- like a dragon being ripped apart by a thousand demons. "It's all COMING OFF!" Alaryah screamed. The guards who raced in at the howling looked around uncertainly, trying to pinpoint the threat. Sif was trembling, horrified at the blank expression on Asta's face.

"Lady Asta," she said urgently, leaping up and putting her hands on the girl's shoulders. "I apologize, I was disrespectful. Please do not kill the Elf. We need her." Behind her, Alaryah's screams were rising in pitch and Sif shook the blank-faced girl hard. "ASTA! STOP!" Giving a shudder, the Princess stepped back unsteadily. Expressionless at the sight in front of her, Asta turned and woodenly walked out of the room.

Frantically pulling the Dark Elf's hands away from her face. Sif frowned. The only injury there were the red furrows Akaryah clawed into her own skin.

Returning to her chambers, Asta was nauseous with self-disgust. She'd never hurt anyone. Not ever. But all she could think in her humiliation and hate was the pleasure of watching that Dark bitch's face melt off. "I have to talk to Loki- I- I must explain- I need to talk..." Bathing, she put on a pale green gown, one she knew her Intended loved- specifically, taking it off her. Asta fashioned an elaborate style with her long hair and donned the huge emerald necklace and earring set Loki gave her for their wedding. Armored as a Princess of Asgard, she marched to the library where she knew her husband was looking through some ancient texts about the Undead.

"This isn't the time, Asta." Loki was curt, clearly intent on getting back to his work.

"This must be the time, my Intended," she said stubbornly. "I haven't seen you for three days." He turned his back to her, opening a book.

"How long will you blame me?" she pleaded, ashamed of how her voice cracked.

Loki irritably waved a dismissive hand at her. "Go to bed. You're not making sense." He refused to look up, refused to see the shaking wreck of his wife.

"You do," Asta said, suddenly furious. "You do! What would you have done in my place, Loki?" Without quite knowing it, she'd grabbed hold of the arms of his chair, shouting right into his white and furious face. "How would the great Commander handle the imprisonment, the torture-"

"How? HOW?" Loki stood so suddenly his heavy chair knocked backward as he shouted back. "I would have the strength and courage to hold fast, knowing I would be rescued!"

Asta tried to turn away, those humiliating tears rising to the surface again. "I- I did everything I could to withstand them, I-"

"Oh no, wife!" the dark prince spat, making her title sound distasteful. "You demanded to speak with me, remember?" His hand shot out to grab her arm, yanking her back. "How many times, hmmm? How many times did that Svartálfar filth fuck you? Did he share you with his court? Offering his pitiful prize to just anyone?"

Yanking her arm back, Asta kept shaking her head, over and over, unable to form a sentence in her defense. "No one! There was no one-" He was like a wolf again, she thought irrationally, slinking toward her, head lowered to show his malevolent gaze.

"But there would have been, correct? You'd let that dark filth fill your hospitable cunt, just get something back in your womb, whether it was MY CHILDREN OR NOT!"

Asta couldn't speak, sobbing so hard she was breathless, clumsily retreating from him through the library. Loki continued to stalk her, all his pain and rage finally finding its focus. "You would give him willingly what he took from us by force! He tore my sons from your body and you would OFFER it to him?"

"No! No, Loki! I- I was confused and all- all I could think was that our babies would be restored to me and-"

This time, Loki's howl was truly that of a wolf. "His babies, you worthless bitch! HIS! Not mine!" He stood back, looking at her shaking form with disgust. "By the Nornir, my HORSE held true longer than you did."

His triumphant cruelty stopped Asta's breath in her throat. Her hand slashed out and hit him across the face. Amber eyes slitted, she stared at her red handprint on his pale, cruel face and then left the library. Returning back to their rooms, the Princess shakily looked around for a moment before heading to the wardrobe, pulling out a dress and trousers for travel and a dark cloak. Stripping off her pretty green dress, she changed into the new one mechanically. Next were the emerald earrings and necklace, placed indifferently on the table. Finally, she stared blankly at her wedding ring, remembering how happy she was the day her Intended placed it on her hand. "He's not anymore," she mumbled. "He was right. I was a mistake." Trying to pull it off her finger, Asta began sobbing again as it refused to budge, no matter how hard she yanked at it. "One of the Sisters will be able to remove it," she muttered to herself. "I'll send it back." Lifting the small pack she was taking, Asta left their chambers without a last look. Saddling her own horse wasn't difficult, and the Princess waved away a stable boy's offer of help. Unnerved by her blank amber stare, the boy was relieved to bow and leave her alone.

Galloping across the Rainbow Bridge, Asta suddenly remembered who stood guard at the end. "Good evening, Your Grace," his golden eyes were expressionless as Heimdall looked at the black-haired wraith perched on her horse.

"Good- good evening to you, Sir," she said, speaking carefully to avoid quavering.

"A bit late for traveling, is it not?" he offered calmly.

Asta flushed, then lifted her chin. "I go to visit my kin. Would you?" Her hand waved to the Bifröst, and Heimdall reluctantly nodded.

"Are you certain this is the course you wish to take, my Lady?"

Running her hand over the unkempt black locks tumbling from her hood, Asta forced herself to sound confident. "You are required, Sir, to allow passage at any time to a member of the Royal Family, are you not?"

Those luminous golden eyes fell to the ring still on her left hand and Heimdall inclined his huge helmed head. "As you wish, Princess Asta." Nodding gratefully, Asta fixed her eyes on the vortex opening before her and left Asgard without looking back.

Head nodding and jerking with exhaustion, Asta began to regret her request to be sent within a half day's ride to the Alfheim castle. She wanted some time to prepare herself and find the right words to request asylum. After nearly falling from her horse for the third time, the Princess forced herself to stop at a creek, gratefully drinking the cold water till her stomach couldn't hold any more, then washing her face. It was so nice here, she thought, so nice to be home... "I'll just close my eyes for a moment," she murmured, "just for a moment."

When Asta opened her eyes again, she struggled to sit up, disoriented. "Good morning, dear one." Her special Sister was leaning over her, holding a steaming cup of tea. "Here," she urged briskly, "drink this and then we'll talk."

For one moment, the girl allowed herself to pretend it had all been a dream, that she was still an untried Progeny. But the look of nearly concealed sorrow in her Sister's eyes evaporated her little fantasy. "How am I here, Sister? I'd returned from- from Asgard and stopped for a quick rest-"

Smoothing a hand over Asta's rumpled hair, the woman shook her head. "That was four days ago, child. The King sent out a search party after Heimdall sent word of your arrival."

"Four days?" Asta shook her head as she absently sipped her tea- it was wonderful, strong and tasting of cinnamon.

The lovely face of the Sister was kind. "When did you last sleep, child?" Asta's emotionless expression told her what she needed to know. "Well, then. Another question. Why have you returned here?"

Asta suspected there was something more in the tea, because she suddenly felt strong again, sharper. "My husband," she paused, trying to breathe through the bolt of pain that lanced through her chest. "M- my husband has disavowed me. I hoped to serve-"

"Disavowed?" the Sister inquired sharply. "Your title is intact, I would know if it had been withdrawn. You still wear your ring."

Forcing herself to finish the tea in hopes of removing the lump in her throat, the Princess shook her head. "Prince Loki is disgusted with me, and my faithlessness. He said, 'by the Nornir, my'-" Asta stopped dead, jaw open as she processed something. "By. The. Nornir." The Sister frowned at her charge's blank expression. "By the Nornir..." The girl spoke slowly, tasting the words. "The Nornir..." With a jolt, she dropped the teacup and jumped to her feet. "The Nornir." She hissed, "the Three Sisters have my children!"

King Leafstead graciously stood as the Sisters led Asta into his private greeting room, embracing the Progeny. "Please allow me to apologize for dishonoring your house, Your Grace." She sank to her knees.

"Up, child." The King gestured gracefully "There is no dishonor. You would think we do not know what you have endured?" His stately voice shook slightly from rage. Collecting himself, he urged them all to be seated. "Tell me of this... theory of yours, my dear."

Her set face met his with absolute certainty. "When my captors used the Dark Magic to-" Asta's voice broke, but she continued. "When they took my sons from me, I thought- we all thought they were gone, their souls departed. My husband-" Loki's title felt sour in her mouth. "My husband even visited Hel to ask his daughter if she'd seen them. But they were nowhere... nowhere to be found." Asta leaned forward, her face lit from a glow from within. "Because they reside with the Nornir, hidden within the cradle of the Well of Urd."

The King sank back in shock. "Asta..." he said, shaking his head. "My dear..."

"Wait, please Your Grace." She hastily opened an ancient book in front of him, carefully smoothing the thin vellum. "Do you remember the Twin Towers from legend, the final stand against Ragnarok? When the Demon King- Surtur- when he was mocking me one night, he spoke of how I was meant to bear the Twin Towers. Look at this illustration, please." Brow furrowed on his beautiful face, the King looked at the ancient drawing. For the first time in ten thousand years, the Light Elf felt a chill- more like a flood of ice water down his back. The pen and ink image was clear- the madness and turmoil of the end of things blocked from passage to the Nine Realms held back by the strong shoulders of two young men. Twins. "The Three Sisters," Asta said coldly, "they woke the Mad Titan and gave him the Dark Magic needed to take my sons. They _want_ Ragnarok. They want to bring about the End of All Things."

Notes:

Everyone okay? How we doing? This was a long chapter, but I couldn't figure out where to separate it.


	31. I Will Have To Be Enough

Trigger warnings for mention of torture. Physical abuse against a nasty Dark Elf. Violent minor character death.

Chapter Text

Over the next week, inquiries began arriving from Asgard regarding their absent Princess. Letters from the Queen, a page bearing gifts sent from the Allfather, and eventually Thor, thundering through the Bifrost with the Warriors Three.

"King Leafstred, thank you for granting us an audience," Thor bowed respectfully, "we are here-" His confidence faltered briefly at the Light Elf's unhelpful expression. "We are here to bring Princess Asta home."

The Queen spoke first. "And by whose order do you come, Prince?" They watched the confusion and then consternation sweep across Thor's open and guileless face.

"By the word of the House of Odin, of course," he finished confidently.

The King's expression was not unkind, but he shook his head. "There is only one with the authority to request the return of the Princess. Her husband." Thor's heart sank. Leaning forward, Leafstred was stern. "Do you bring word from Prince Loki?"

Fandral stepped forward hastily, attempting his charm. "Your Grace, the Prince is, of course, distraught over the absence of his bride, so we stand here in his stead-"

"It will not do." the King interrupted, "I am sorry for your wasted journey. Do stay the night and rest."

"Your Grace!" Thor's voice, as usual, was far louder than he meant it to be. "Ahem, Your Grace. May we see her? At least let me speak to her?"

The King and Queen rose, indicating the audience was over. "I am sorry," the Queen said sincerely, sympathetic to Thor's look of despair, "but Princess Asta is in seclusion with the Sisters of the Nagovisi. She cannot be disturbed."

Meanwhile...

The frozen rock that was Jotunheim was just as hellishly cold and inhospitable as Loki had expected. Striding confidently to the clearing where King Laufey crouched upon the jagged rock of his throne, the Prince wondered how any infant survived here, much less abandoned as he was. His emerald cape billowed behind him, silver horns blinding on his helmet. The party from Asgard gleamed and shone in their brilliance, lighting dark, ragged corners of the great hall. Laufey watched the visitors swagger towards him, then turned his fiery gaze on Loki. "Your men," he grunted. "Leave them where they stand."

"What?" hissed Sif, "That is a very bad idea, your Grace."

The King's impassive face turned to Loki again. "Only you may approach me."

Putting a gloved hand up to stop his companions, Loki obeyed, walking into the frigid hall alone. Looking at the gigantic Jötunn looming above him, his thin lips suddenly stretched into an ironic smile. "Hello, Father."

"Mmmm..." grunted Laufey. "And what is it that you think you know, boy?"

Loki idly circled the massive throne, eyeing him. "Odin found me in your temple. Abandoned on the altar."

The King's rigid expression didn't change, but the red of his eyes glowed angrily. "That was all you were told."

Raising one fine brow, Loki nodded. "Yes."

"Is that why you are here, young Prince?" the Jötunn growled.

Emerald eyes clashed with blazing red ones. "No." he shrugged, continuing his circuit around the throne. "There are more pressing matters at hand. Namely, the End of All Things."

"Ragnarok," Laufey said reflectively, "yes."

"You know the dark factions we face," Loki reminded the silent King. "The dwarves. Surtur and his demons. The Svartálfar filth that-" He stopped to compose himself. "Vanaheim is almost useless, barely able to survive. That leaves Asgard and the Light Elves."

"Why are you telling me this, boy?"

Loki finally stood in front of his father, facing him head-on. "Without Jotunheim entering this fight, the Free Realms will fall. The enemy intends to use the Undead in their troops."

Laufey's eyes glowed a furious, flaming red for a moment before he recovered. "Madness. How could they find such Dark Magic?"

Loki seemed to deflate briefly, rubbing his eyes. "The Mad Titan. He seems to have access to unimaginable energies, arcane spells."

"Mmmm..." mused the Jötunn King. "It is worse than my spies have told me." Looking up, he eyed his son. "Have you ever changed your form, Aesir Prince?"

"To Jötunn?" Loki questioned, then nodded. "For my- my wife a few times."

The brow of the King rose on his ridged forehead. "Where is the Progeny? I would expect her to accompany you here." He watched closely as his son flushed.

"The Lady Asta is with the White Court at present." Loki finally answered.

To his astonishment, the Jötunn King shook his head. "Pity. I liked that one." He stood, indicating the meeting was over. "I will discuss this information with my council. I cannot give you any assurances."

His pale son gritted his teeth, bowing politely. As he turned to leave, Laufey's voice spoke again.

"Boy."

Loki looked back to the King; brow raised in question.

"Has the... Allfather," Laufey grunted mockingly, "has he ever told you who your mother was?"

"No." Loki answered slowly. "He never spoke to me of the truth at all."

The blue monarch's laugh was more of a rasp. "Interesting."

The God of Thunder was just returning as Loki's retinue was stepping off the Rainbow Bridge. Riding back together, Thor was eager to hear about Jotunheim. "What news, brother?"

Loki irritably pulled off his helmet and cloak. "Damn this heat! I'm actually missing the rocks and ice of King Laufey's palace." Running a hand through his dark hair, he admitted, "In truth, I do not know. Laufey is sane, which is at least promising. But his hate for the Allfather runs so deep, I wonder if he can overcome it enough to ally with us."

Thor grunted, "Your mission was at least possibly successful, mine was not."

"Where did Odin send you?" Loki wiped the sweat stinging his eyes.

"The fetch your wife back to Asgard," the blond prince replied, trying to sound neutral. In truth, the two had almost come to blows several times about Asta's abrupt departure from the palace, and from her husband.

"You're wasting your time," Loki said coldly. "If she chooses to run from the consequences of her actions, so be it."

Thor's gigantic shoulders slumped. "Truly, brother. I love you. But you are the most stupid man in the Nine Realms. I would have given Mjölnir itself to have the Lady Asta choose me." He watched as the thin line of Loki's mouth turned cruel, then sighed and rode ahead.

The Dark Elf was roaming the halls near the courtyard as the group returned. "What are you doing out here?" Thor asked sharply, "Where are your guards?"

Alaryah shrugged, "The palace is low on protection, and I seem to be a lesser threat." The two somehow fell into step. "And your mission to return the Lady Asta?" The Elf asked sarcastically, "has she returned to yet another hero's welcome?" Alaryah found herself pinned against the marble wall behind her with Thor's hand around her throat.

"You-" the God of Thunder forced himself to calm. "You will shut your mouth. You will never say her name again, Svartálfar whore. I know whatever you said to her that day caused this breach. If it would change anything, I would kill you where you stand." Letting go of her half-crushed throat, he watched as she fell to the ground, still choking. Remembering Asta's story of the tortures done to her, Thor turned abruptly and left the hall. Back in his chambers, he angrily stripped off his ceremonial armor. "It's twice now that I've struck a woman," he thought dismally. "What have I come to?"

Loki searched later that day, wanting to see what she knew about possible Jötunn involvement with the Dark Elves. He finally caught word of her injuries and found her under the Soul Forge, trying to recover from the damage Thor did to her throat. "Will you recover?" he asked, standing at her bedside.

Alaryah had to write her response: "Soon enough. Hard to believe your little Light Elf had her throat slit half a dozen times or so. I may have underestimated her stamina." He nodded and took his leave, telling the Dark Elf he'd return for her in the morning.

Six times, Loki thought, nauseous from disgust. And Alaryah's injuries were minimal compared to his wife's. The dark prince was too cold to feel anything like remorse, but it did twist the knife deeper to overhear the Healers discussing Alaryah's case. "What has happened to Prince Thor?" worried one of the Healers in blue. "He nearly tore the Elf's throat out."

"No fear," countered a callous voice. "The Dark Bitch's injuries are nothing compared to the Princess. I knew Elven physiology is incredibly resourceful when it comes to healing injuries. But none of us thought she'd live the night when she was rescued. The damage-" the woman's voice broke, then continued. "It was unspeakable. We couldn't bring ourselves to tell Prince Loki how bad it was."

Tossing back his black hair, the Prince strode angrily for the exit. Sitting on his huge bed- which seemed ridiculously large now that it didn't harbor his beloved, Loki took a deep breath and cleared his mind, trying to teach out his psychic strands as Asta did. It was strange, mused the Prince. He didn't like people- most of them anyway- but he'd never noticed the low frequency buzz through his subconscious- the conversation of the world, as Asta had called it. Focusing carefully, Loki closed it off, all of it. Sitting in the pitch black of his mind, he could feel his throat tightening, palms sweating as he waited for the Universe to begin its chatter again. Loki finally understood what the Navagosi Sister tried to explain to him after Asta's rescue. And his clean little wife had endured night after night of it. 'But nonetheless,' his lip curled into a sneer, 'she left ME.'

Asta was reading through the fifth ancient tome that day, trying to find more about the passage to Yggdrasil, which sheltered the Well of Urd. The Sisters all sat at the giant table with her, everyone searching for whatever scraps of information could be gathered. Her Sister leaned closer. "You had visitors today from Asgard."

Ruthlessly crushing the little leap of her heart, the Progeny kept reading. "Mmmm..." she murmured noncommittally.

"Prince Thor and the Warriors Three." the Sister added.

Cold amber eyes met blue ones. "Odin's firstborn has caused me enough trouble. I have no wish to see him."

But her Sister was persistent. "They came to bring you back to Asgard. The King sent them away, stating the only orders that could retrieve you would be those of your husband's."

Asta's eyes clouded with tears, but she blinked them back and kept reading.

Loki's mind became more unsettled with each day passing. He angrily told himself that it was simply the heat- this damnable swelter crouching over the city. But he knew better. The cold Prince of Lies began having nightmares of his own- of those beautiful little movements of light dancing away from them as he held Asta's arm in a cruel grip as she wept, "please come back, please come back, please come back..." Some mornings, he'd wake still whispering the words, over and over with his face wet with tears. It was true that he never let himself think too long of what they'd lost. Loki was first consumed with recovering his wife... and then consumed with blaming her.

His remorse simply served to irritate Loki further, and he found himself joining a drunken and raucous group that night, unable to sleep. "Brother!" Thor called him over. "Let us drink tonight, for tomorrow we may die!"

"Really, Thor..." drawled Loki, elegantly draping himself over a chair. "If that's the case, I suggest the saying should be; "let us fuck tonight, if tomorrow we die!" There was a huge round of laughter, and everyone raised a mug.

The crowd seemed to take the God of Lies' advice literally, because couples began leaving the group. Mildly flirting with some giggling courtesans, Loki finally spotted Sif, polishing off her drink. "Darling Sif," he purred. "It's been too long. Why don't you join me in my chambers for a discussion on... military maneuvers?"

Sif paused, staring at his pale face. "You don't even see it, do you?"

Loki arched an elegant brow. "And what would that be, darling?"

She smiled sadly, looking him over. "You're lost without Asta. If there's any saving you, you'll need to beg her to forgive you. And I'll have to beg her forgiveness too." He watched her walk away, then threw his glass furiously against the wall, striding off.

The steps to the deepest circle of hell in the dungeons of Asgard were so far beneath the surface of the ground that the sound of Loki's deliberate footsteps no longer echoed, the stone walls muffled everything. This was where Odin threw the dregs- the creatures meant to be forgotten forever.

Standing before the final cell, Loki bent his head to enter the tiny entryway. A mocking croak of a laugh sounded, the prisoner standing to get a better view of his visitor. "Oh, I'm beside myself. Prince Loki. To what do I owe this honor?"

Looking down at the Dark Prince Andreas, he allowed himself a small smile, strolling closer. "You look terrible, a shame. I thought there was nothing from which an elf couldn't heal."

Still choking out that rusty laugh, the Dark Elf leered. "Here I thought you'd be an expert by now, watching your pitiful little bride recover."

Calmly pulling out a rough wooden chair, Loki dusted it before seating himself. "Why don't you tell me about that? I know you wielded the whip against my wife, many times. I imagine you had a ringside seat."

The Dark Elf cocked his head, confused. "Now what would compel me to do so?" He gestured around him grandly. "I have all I could possibly need here."

The Asgardian Prince looked at the battered elf, then smiled thinly. "A quick death. And the pleasure of watching me suffer." Loki had him, he knew it. Absorbing the agony and grief of another was an utter delicacy of the Black Court. "You're never leaving this place, and you already know this. The Dark Elves never rescue prisoners. You're a disgrace for being captured."

Prince Andreas tilted his head to a strange angle, suddenly grinning freakishly, showing all his sharp teeth. "To see your face?" he mused, "I'll dine well tonight." Placing his hands on the bars in front of the electrical barrier to his cell, he began.

Meanwhile, Thor was stalking the halls of the palace irritably, still drinking from a bottle of ale. Somehow, his random wanderings led him to Alaryah's chambers. Gulping from his bottle, the Prince looked at the door. He should check on her. Apologize. Yes, apologize for... what? The Dark Elf was a spy, a prisoner of war... but he should check on her. Make sure she hasn't escaped... that's it. Shoving open the heavy door, the God of Thunder strode in to find the elf gloriously naked, and lounging on her bed... with Sif on top of her, equally bare and kissing her passionately. Stopped dead, Thor tried to lift his jaw off the ground. "Ah... ladies. I didn't... that is, I wasn't..."

"What is it you needed, Prince?" Alaryah asked with regal irritation. "We are busy."

"I was just... checking... I was checking on you after your injury this afternoon. The injury... I caused it. The injury." he stammered, even while part of his mind was already calculating the possibility they might invite him to join them.

The Dark Elf rose from her bed, still unashamedly naked, walking to him with an alluring smile. "I'll recover, Your Grace," she said, voice still hoarse from the near strangling. Thor leaned in a little. "So, goodnight." He found himself ushered back out the door as it shut firmly behind him. The blonde giant sighed. Even after 1,800 years, he understood _nothing_ about women. Nothing at all.

Hours passed, and Loki sat still for the torrent of cruelties Prince Andreas poured for him- every terrible thing done to Asta in an effort to break her. "Stupid cow," he chuckled almost fondly, voice hoarse from speaking so long. "All she had to do was consent. And she refused, every time, knowing the torture would be worse. You know," he said conversationally, "I've always found the best punishment can't be inflicted until you know what truly hurts the prisoner. In your lovely wife's case, it was that stubborn beast. Fryktløs may be the offspring of a God, but he's still a simple beast, made to be broken. We would have done it, too- until that stupid little girl found him." The Dark Elf painfully shifted positions. "Do you know," he said confidingly, "did you know she was so attached to the stupid creature that she would take his beatings for him? For an _animal?"_

Loki rose then, perfectly expressionless. Transporting himself through the force field and the bars, he looked down at the fallen Prince, who was still chuckling over the absurdity of the Progeny. "Thank you." the Asgardian Prince said gravely. Before Andreas could retort, Loki swiped a blade with either hand and decapitated the elf, then shouting an oath so vile that the headless monster exploded, sending blood and limbs flying. Pointing a finger, Loki set fire to the remains, then walked out of the cell and up the endless flights of stairs to the palace again.

The next morning, Asta stood before the King and Queen and the White Court- everyone's expressions were a tangled mix of cautious hope and fear. The Sisters of the Nagovisi surrounded their Progeny. "My dear," King Leafstred leaned forward, "the potency of these spells- the path you must take- to try it alone..." His exquisite face was somber. "Are you utterly certain Prince Loki would not..."

Asta smiled, shaking her head helplessly. "I am all my sons have, Your Grace. I will have to be enough." Taking a deep breath, she waited for the King to call for Heimdall, requesting travel through the Bifröst. Racing over the Rainbow Bridge, the hooded figure didn't pause to speak to anyone. When the Princess Asta removed her cloak to the palace guards, she acknowledged then with a curt nod in passing. She kept her footsteps confident and sure, knowing she couldn't afford the risk of questions.

It was nice to hear some of the palace servants call to her; "We've missed you, Princess Asta! Welcome home!" A warm welcome, even with the influence of those damnable spores. Asta would nod and smile back in a noncommittal fashion as she headed for her destination: the vault that held her wedding gifts. The guards stood back easily for her, even though the detail on the room full of precious oddities had been tripled after the discovery of the portal hidden within the chest of jewels. Her sweet, calming smile and a small suggestion spell relaxed them all. The Princess headed straight for the gift from Loki's Jötunn sire- the Is Sverd. Easily pulling it from it's resting place, Asta gave it a couple of test slashes, feeling the frost shoot up her wrist, her body heat fighting it back. The same strength was there. Breathing a prayer of gratitude, she slid it into the scabbard and hung it over her back, so she could cover it more easily with her cloak. Feeling her window of opportunity closing, her footsteps quickened to the Queen's medicinal garden. Waving aside the cloaking spell, the Princess heaved a sigh of relief- the little sapling was growing well. Kneeling, she pulled out a sharp knife and whispered: "Forgive me, but I'll need all of you." Slicing the stem to the soil's surface, Asta reverently placed the precious branch in her bag, then headed for the Rainbow Bridge again.

Thor staggered out into the bright sunlight of the morning, still cursing those last 6 bottles of ale and the general perfidy of women. He was just in time to see his brother mounting Fryktløs. "Where are you going this early?" Thor groaned.

Gathering his reins, Loki looked down. "To go to my wife and beg her forgiveness on my knees."

"There's what I've been hoping to hear!" his brother shouted happily. "Well done!"

The two were interrupted by a palace guard. "My Lords, forgive me- I thought to see the Lady Asta with you? The Queen heard the news that the Princess had returned and asked me to bring her to Queen Frigga's chambers."

"Back?" Thor brightened.

"What? Where?" demanded Loki.

The guard began to look justifiably anxious. "In- in the vault where we hold all the gifts and artifacts." With a look at each other, the two Princes made for the Bifröst, intending to have Heimdall prevent her from leaving. But when they reached the glittering bridge, they saw Asta had no such intention. She was standing at the edge, looking down into the empty space beyond the shimmering energies of the Bifröst. It was Dead Space, and in more savage times was used at the worst of all possible executions- being thrown off the edge of the world and falling through nothingness for eternity.

"No! No, Asta, WAIT!" Loki nearly screamed in desperation.

His wife looked up, for a moment. He saw love and longing on her face, and goodbye. Her lips moving in the shape of an arcane spell, the Princess Asta stepped sideways from this world and simply... fell into the next.

Still screaming, without even thinking twice, Loki kicked Fryktløs into a full gallop and sprang over the side of the rainbow bridge directly after his wife.

Notes:

Don't EVEN START. I have a plan! You know I do!


	32. Task 1: Jormungand

Task #1: Jormungand

Summary:

In which Loki and Asta face the serpent coiled in the roots of Yggdrasil, and Odin's true treachery is finally revealed.

Notes:

You'll see here that I'm playing fast and loose with some of the structure of the mythology, but hence the AU warning. Purists, I hope you'll forgive me.

Sorry. Odin is an asshole. I've read Norse mythology since I was a child and I've always thought it- always sending someone out to do his dirty work, usually Loki. Not necessarily evil. Just selfish.

Chapter Text

For what seemed like years, the only thing Loki could feel was a huge, sucking pull of what seemed like falling from an unimaginable height. He finally found the comforting feel of Fryktløs beneath him, the horse's legs still moving as if in a gallop. The Prince managed to unclench one hand from the reins, reaching down cautiously to pat his friend. The soothing nicker back made Loki smile briefly. "Well, at least one of us knows what is happening to us, my friend." His deep voice sounded shaky to his ears, but Fryktløs huffed back. Looking around him, there was nothing. Nothing to move past or rush by in what still felt like plunging downwards. In another moment, Loki's heart gave a jolt as he thought of Asta. "Where?" he groaned, "Where is she?" For another thousand years- or at least it felt that way- there was nothing more than the falling and the movement from his horse to steady him. The feeling of racing madly through absolute nothingness was wildly disorienting, but the Prince forced his vision to stay just above the head of his horse, and that's when he saw her.

"ASTA! ASTA, I'm here! Asta, please-" His wife was sailing serenely, the pressure of falling not buffeting her as violently as it felt to him. She looked frightened but determined. He shouted his throat bloody for what felt like a millennium, and then his beautiful wife looked up to see him.

"LOKI?" she screamed disbelievingly, "What- how?" She reached for him, not quite sure how to traverse the insurmountable distance between them.

Loki leaned down to the twitching ear of Fryktløs, "brother, can you reach Asta? I... don't know how to guide you." The valiant descendant of Bevinget Hest however seemed to know the way. Loki could feel the movement of galloping, though he couldn't understand how or in what direction, but they drew close to their goal, his wife's pale hands reaching for him.

The expression in those amber eyes nearly made Loki come undone. Love. Shock, joy, relief. Reaching one long arm, he gave a huge heave that nearly dislocated his shoulder, but Asta landed with a thump in his lap, facing him. Her legs instantly wrapped around his lean waist, squeezing in gratitude for the solid feel of her husband. "You're here?" She didn't mean it as a question, exactly, but she was simply stunned at the sight of Prince Loki of Asgard- strong arms and emerald eyes holding her tightly.

His pale face and reddened eyes looked her over, one huge hand running over Asta's hair, her face and shoulders, mindlessly assuring she was all right. "My sweet wife- my Asta- you would jump into Dead Space? Why, love? Why would you _do_ such a thing?"

She gave a choked laugh. "It is not the Void. What do you feel?"

"Falling," was his instant answer, until Loki could fell the brutal rush and plunging sensation were gone. It felt more like skimming, a feather-light boat slipping over the surface of the water. "How can this be?" he marveled.

"You must have been close enough behind me to enter my pocket of subspace," Asta said gratefully, "but husband, the odds of you surviving! Why did you come after me?" She ran her shaking hands over and over his cheeks and hair.

Her cold and haughty spouse gave a shudder, tears reddening his eyes again. "I'm not worthy to be in your presence- but I had just mounted Fryktløs to ride to Alfheim to beg you- on my knees- to forgive me and return home to your family."

Asta couldn't quite look at him, the shame of what he'd called her and the feeling that she _could_ have held fast a little longer- if she had just-

"Don't. You. DARE." Loki's voice was clipped and furious after hearing her thoughts. "Don't you _ever_ question your strength. No one could have endured what you did- certainly not me." His cool hand lifted her face to his. "If I could fall to my knees..." They both looked at their predicament and laughed. "If I could kneel to you, I would. Your Grace, I humbly beg your forgiveness. I never blamed you- I hated myself for allowing the Mad Titan to tear our sons from you- for not rescuing you for so long." Loki flushed with shame and a little amusement. "Fryktløs told me you held fast, and then bit me."

"What?" Asta gasped, laughing a little, torn because that was terrible but sort of pleased with her companion in the Black Court.

"Oh, yes, darling." Loki pulled aside his jacket to show a huge bite mark on his shoulder, blood staining his shirt. He sobered a bit, "I don't expect you to forgive me, not for a very long time. But I- I will do everything I can to earn it."

Asta smiled through sudden tears, smoothing his jacket absently. "My Intended, you rode your best friend off the Rainbow Bridge to be with me, even though you expected us to plunge to our deaths. I can forgive you." She suddenly brightened, "though I am very happy Fryktløs bit you."

Hearing what he felt was a clearly satisfied whinny from their traveling companion, Loki arched a stern brow. "Really..." Asta's eyes widened at the tone she knew too well, and her husband suddenly chuckled. "I deserve worse. I love you, sweet wife. I love you..." Loki held her wet face in those large palms, kissing her features gently, insistently until her tears stopped and Asta began kissing him back with those pillowy lips he adored. Foreheads together, they took a deep breath together. "Asta, my angel," the Prince looked around them into the Nothingness. "I would gladly follow you anywhere, but...where _are_ we going?"

When those huge golden eyes looked up to him, Loki was struck by how fierce they were. "We're going to get our sons back from the Nornir. Those hags stole our babies." Watching her husband's jaw drop, Asta smiled. "It's a very long tale, my Intended. But it seems that we have plenty of time."

The Queen was restlessly pacing her chambers, wringing her hands while Thor watched her numbly. "It's my fault," Frigga sobbed. "I was so angry at your father, so humiliated by his treatment that I shut myself off from everyone. She came to see me, and the guards turned her away."

Her son's blond head was bent. "There's plenty of blame to share, Mother. I could never accept that Asta chose Loki over me. I couldn't stand that he had something I wanted. I tried over and over to take her from my brother."

Frigga let our a half laugh, half growl. "If things were different, son, I would put an impotence curse on you for a hundred years." Thor's face paled in horror. "I still might!" she threatened. The Allmother went back to pacing. "I don't believe for a moment that Asta was attempting to end her life. She took the Jötunn sword from the vault and the- something from my medical garden."

Thor absent-mindedly began to pace alongside her. "But what? What was she attempting?" His handsome face sobered. "Whatever it is-" Thor's voice broke, "-I'm glad they're facing it together."

"Did you say Prince Loki stepped sideways with the Progeny?" They both looked up to see King Leafstred and his Queen enter. "Then there is hope. Perhaps they _will_ overcome the Nornir."

Frigga stopped dead in her tracks, her lovely face sheet-white. "Did you say the Nornir? The NORNIR?"

Loki was silent as Asta finished. Conflicting feelings of rage and delirious gratitude swept over him in waves. "Our sons live," he said out loud, tasting the words, feeling the truth of them.

"Yes," she answered bluntly, "they wait for us."

Asta's dark husband found his hands were shaking as he ran them over her shoulders. "Then we will come for them. We'll bring them home." One rough thumb brushed gently over her cheek. "You would have done this alone? Faced the Three Sisters?"

Her big eyes looked up to him again, this time a bitter cold. "I would kill the demon King Surtur, the Mad Titan and anyone else who stood against me."

Loki nodded, still stroking her arms and back soothingly. "Then we face them together. We will hold our twins in our arms, I swear it."

Her relief was so intense that Asta's entire body sagged from it, leaning against her husband's hard chest. "Thank you. Thank you for coming for me. I was determined, but I was so terrified to face them alone."

"We'll face them together," Loki soothed. "You will never face anything alone again."

Odin was called when the report of the White Court's arrival reached the War Council. Like his wife and son, he sat, stunned by the news. "How can this be?" He ran his hand over his white hair, feeling as if he'd seen a million years, rather than ten thousand.

"Your _son_," the word was said with a strange emphasis, "was chosen as our Progeny's Intended. Their twin boys are meant to stand as the Twin Towers against the horrors of Ragnarok." One of the Sisters of the Nagovisi walked forward, eyeing the most powerful leader in all the Nine Realms with contempt. "Your arrogance in trying to warp the sacred nature of this Union contributed to their anguish. We can only pray their connection is strong enough to defeat the Nornir's plan for the End of All Things."

The Allfather drew himself up in a rage. "Do you KNOW WHO YOU SPEAK TO?"

"Yes." The exquisite face of the Sister was calm. "The King who stole a child from the sacred temple of Jotunheim, where he'd been placed for his protection, not abandoned. The warrior who held the infant of King Laufey as a threat for his father's compliance." Odin was shaking with rage, but as his mouth opened to bellow at the Sister, no sound came out. She leaned closer, her words clear in the shocked silence of the giant room. "And you are the brother who dishonored his sister's love for a Frost Giant and buried her here, away from her husband."

Frigga's breath was coming in sobs, and even the Light Elves were pale with shock. Thor was looking desperately back and forth, trying to recover from the shock of a brother who was not a brother, and a father who was a liar. The Queen spoke first. "_Astrid_? Our- our Astrid? Joined with Laufey? And you never said anything to me? I told our son he was abandoned, thrown away! Do you know what that_ did_ to him?"

Odin reverted back to the only thing he knew: intimidation. "You WILL BE SILENT!" he shouted, "Do you think I would admit to my sweet sister joined with that Jötunn filth? I saved that boy- our nephew!"

His Queen, the Allmother walked up to him, staring at him for the first time in thousands of years with contempt. "You destroyed countless lives with your self-serving lies. And you may have doomed us to Ragnarok. For your own selfish ends. Not for the Nine Realms." Her hand reached up and slapped her husband, striking him for the first time ever. "You did it for yourself." Everyone, even his wife and son, blindly left the room, trying to find somewhere to recover. King Odin was left alone, longing to explain to someone why his actions were _necessary_, why they were for the _good_of Asgard.

It was Loki first who felt the change in their velocity, a sense of _something_ coming to mind. "My angel," he asked, "where next do we land?"

Asta gave him a cheerful smile. "At the roots of Yggdrasil, of course. We must first face Jormungand for passage to the Well of Urd."

The Prince's jaw dropped. "Jormungand. The serpent that circles the Tree of Life?"

His wife gave him a kiss. "The very same." They could smell before they could see, the sense of green and life and growing things. There was a faint scent of flowers and water, soil and a faint whiff of rot as they sank lower until finally, a nation of unimaginable growth exploded beneath them. The Tree of Life's size was beyond description- larger than all the Realms, even the Universe. The sheer scope made them both dizzy, closing their eyes as Fryktløs dropped lower with his burden. Finally feeling an end to movement, a bone-jarring stop, the two carefully opened their eyes. Shakily sliding off his equine friend, Loki reached up for his wife, gently lowering Asta to the ground. Taking a deep breath, she smiled gratefully. "It's wonderful to simply smell something again, much less this glorious growth." The Prince smiled fondly at the Light Elf's love of nature, knowing it was where she was happiest. Fryktløs was wandering close by, gratefully cropping the rich grass.

Loki ran his hands through his thick, black hair, pulling it back and out of the way. Taking a deep breath, he turned to Asta. "In your research, my darling, what is the best way to face this creature?"

Her lovely face fell, "this was... the hardest part of our study," the Princess said regretfully.

It was the astounding sense of presence that made them both turn, Fryktløs behind them and nudging Loki urgently. The size was so gargantuan that it felt all air was sucked out of the space to make room for its bulk. All light was blotted out as the massive shadow rose above them, and both the lovers were utterly still with awe as the entity spoke. "What is its?" The voice shook the earth, sending shockwaves through their spines and into the thin bone of their skulls. "Its should be eaten," the voice mused. "What does its taste like?"

Jormungand had arrived.

Notes:

In this story, Hel is the only one of Loki's brood. Had to alter the genealogy or our serpent would end up eating Daddy. Blast Loki and his innumerable inconvenient children!


	33. Now Is Exactly The Time

Now Is Exactly The Time...

Summary:

In which a bargain is struck and Loki and Asta remain uneaten...by Jormungand, at least.

Happy reading!

Chapter Text

For once, Loki was utterly speechless. The sheer enormity of the World Serpent was impossible to understand, even if one _is_ a God. And the looming, scaly presence above them was indifferent to his God-like status or the importance of their journey. To this immortal guardian, they were insects. This thought offended Loki to a degree that must be countered.

"Guardian of Yaggrisal, we are honored to be in your presence. But I fear Lord Jormungand, that we offend you with our pitiful presence." The God of Lies was indeed worthy of the title. Even Asta swooned towards him as he spoke with his exquisite elocution, mesmerizing depth, and cadence. Loki's huge hands spread wide, showing his warmth and utter lack of guile to the eternal guardian.

"Hmmmm... its speaks the Old Tongue," the gigantic serpent mused.

Asta was nearly shuddering with pleasure. Her dark husband rarely used this voice on her- the lovely, deep tone that promised all manner of delights, forbidden pleasures for the taking- just out of reach.

Loki continued in the warm, intimate tone that assured they were the best of friends. "All these eons, My Lord, waiting for worthy sustenance, and finally what is delivered? Not a proper meal. Not for you." The Prince slowly approached, Fryktløs giving an anxious whinny, tossing his great black head. Jormungand still hovered above them, the unspeakable size of his head turning this way and that.

"How long has it been, Sacred Guardian, since you were offered a meal worthy of you?" Loki's tone now was sorrowful, truly bereft that this beautiful creature was never cared for as befitting his stature.

"Its will do," the serpent answered indifferently. Asta shuddered but reminded silent. Legend told that the great serpent Jormungand circled the Tree of Life for eternity, chewing forever on its own tail.

"No!" Loki was firm, but his beautiful voice compassionate. "Not this scrawny, underfed child-" he waved dismissively at his wife, watching him with a raised brow. "Nor this tough and stringy nag-" to which Fryktløs stomped a hoof but remained silent. "You need true satisfaction- a meal filled with the rich and steaming piles of roast boar with rosemary, lamb so tender it falls off the bone- and beef! Steaks, my lord made rare with garlic and a rich sauce..."

Asta heard her stomach growl, and even Jormungand's head was slowing, lowering to eye Loki more closely. "Its offers what its cannot give," the Guardian hissed, sincere regret in the sibilant retort.

"Oh, but I can, Lord Jormungand," the Prince politely disagreed. "Tell me, what do the Three Sisters offer you for sustenance, the meals you must surely crave?" With a sharp slap, the gigantic serpent knocked all three of them up in the air, then down with a thud on the grass.

His tail appeared, waving threateningly above them. "Its knows what feeds me!" Another sharp emphasis from the back part of the serpent sent them up in the air again. "Nornir brings water from Urd. Jormungand feeds _himself_." The latter was said in a deeper, hostile hiss and Asta backed up against Fryktløs. Loki's head turned sideways, eyeing the Guardian as he raised his hands again. A brown smoke poured from his palms, cycling up to the massive creature.

"You open wide, fangs trembling to taste- to truly taste the glories denied you so long. A thousand cattle slaughtered into perfect steaks, tender chops, and luscious roasts, cooked over the cedar flame... the fat dripping and sizzling on the coals...your meat turning a beautiful brown, with the perfect red center..." Loki's beautiful voice and the heavenly meal it offered blended with his magic- the smell of a thousand campfires cooking meat on spits, the feeling of ravenous need, painful, twisting hunger- and-

Jormungand's triangular head arched, the smoke swirling around his open mouth and cycling into its nostrils. At a sudden, sharp pain, Asta found her fist stuffed in her mouth, actually gnawing on it in desperate hunger. Looking down dazedly, she found their companion frantically cropping grass as fast as he could eat it. "Its must bring me the meats- yes. I will haaave them..." Loki was still gazing upwards, neck cranked to a painful degree with love and compassion clear in his beautiful emerald eyes.

"And you will, my Lord." Asta's eyes widened. In her plan, there was no room for cartfuls of steak. Loki continued soothingly, "allow us passage through and each year such a glorious meal will come to you. As long as I am alive, and my-" Loki's voice broke briefly, but he continued, "children, and their children's children. You will be fed like the God you are." Jormungand's unspeakable bulk was still swaying dreamily with the luscious smoke curling through its nostrils.

"Its may have passage."

Asta's walk wasn't steady, but she followed her husband as he led Fryktløs past the swaying behemoth and through the greenery to the path that led along Yaggrisal. Hurrying to walk beside Loki, she leaned in and whispered, "how could you have possibly convinced The Guardian of such a promise?"

He smiled with just a touch of his old arrogance, taking her hand to kiss it. "Because darling, no one tells the truth more persuasively than the God of Lies."

Asta smiled, holding his hand as they walked along. "How we will deliver dinner to the center of the world defies all probability."

This time, the Prince let out a lung-expanding laugh that echoed down the path. "After leaping into Dead Space after my wife to find our children? Anything is possible, my love."

The excitement of getting past their first task faded as the path stretched ahead drearily, hour after hour. It seemed to get darker around the edges, Asta thought, rubbing her stinging eyes. "Keep up, darling. This isn't a place to slow down." Loki's voice was stern, and the Princess felt a stab of irritation at her husband. As if she didn't _know_?

The God of Lies wasn't faring much better. The blasted path kept getting darker and darker. "There's no day or night in the ether," he growled, annoyed and enchanting a light orb- which instantly went dark.

"L- Loki?" His wife's voice was small and he pinched the bridge of his nose. Was she going to whine the entire damned time? Stopping, he cursed as Asta stumbled into him. "Watch where you walk, little girl!"

"It's difficult when your gigantic bulk is blocking the path!"

"How difficult is it to simply pay _attention_ to-"

A warning neigh from Fryktløs was all they had before all light was blotted out, like a spill of ink obliterating the page. Asta frantically turned, trying to find them- did they _leave_ her? Loki finally sick of her whining and helplessness and- oh, she was here _alone_? A sob broke through her lips and the Princess screamed as something grabbed her.

"Shhhh... hush love, it's me, shhhh..." The hard length of Loki's body pressed against hers, holding her tightly as cool lips touched her ear. "I know this madness, our fears are making us lose our way. Hold onto me..." Asta jumped as they heard rustling in the branches, but then the solid sound of Fryktløs' huge hooves kicking something with a bone-cracking thud. Long arms held her tighter, "You see? Our friend is watching over us."

As his thick fingers moved to Asta's bodice and loosened it, she gasped, putting a hand over his large one. "L- Loki, wait-"

She felt him shake his head, his glossy hair sliding across her cheek. "Now is _exactly_ the time. Trust me, my sweet wife, trust..." Asta's head dropped back against his collarbone as those lovely cool lips traveled down her jaw and neck, then taking a handful of her silky hair to turn her lips to his. Loki kissed her the way he had the day she chose him as her Intended as if savoring great good fortune, sliding that persuasive tongue along her lips, sliding inside in that silky way he always had, sucking her tongue into his mouth. The Prince's other hand was still occupied with taking her breasts from her dress, pink nipples tightening against his icy fingers. Then, that low, sonorous voice that could make her do anything- _anything_ for him. "These beautiful breasts... I'm going to put my cock between them sometime _very_ soon and fuck you. Would you like that, little girl? Licking the head of me as it pushes through these lovely mounds of yours?"

Asta was shuddering with pleasure as his hands began squeezing her breasts harder. "I... oh!"

That dark chuckle again in her ear as her husband turned her to face him. Though she couldn't see him, Asta's pale fingers traced his face, the tightening in her throat beginning to loosen. "Nothing to say, pet? That's all right. Here's a task for that lovely mouth of yours..." The Princess knelt obediently as his hands gently pushed her down. One of Loki's hands stroked her cheek, and she could hear the rustling of clothing, then the broad head of his cock against her mouth. "Kiss..." That sibilant whisper again, making Asta want to do all kinds of dirty things for her husband. Shamelessly, she rubbed her cheek against the silky skin, feeling the granite underneath, her hands sliding up to hold on. Mouth eagerly opening, she moaned at the moment he did, the vibration sliding through his cock and up his spine. His wicked little wife had this thing- this thing with her fluttering tongue on the bulging veins of his shaft while she'd inch him down that blazingly hot throat- "Stop!" he groaned, pulling himself from her mouth, roughly yanking her upwards. Asta clutched his armor for balance as Loki hauled up her skirts. "Wrap those lovely, long legs around me," he purred, "climb up Daddy." Her legs gripped him instantly, smoothly sliding higher. "Such a good, _good_ girl..." His fingers pressed against her silks, and Asta was suddenly grateful for the dark hiding her blush as her dark husband chuckled knowingly. "Oh, lovely. You're soaking wet, aren't you? Daddy's going to take care of you. Would you like that?" His luscious, long fingers slipped teasingly around her pussy, two stroking in the slippery surface of her needy slit. Loki diabolically slid those fingers up, catching her clitoris between them and twisting gently. "...do you, little girl?"

"Um... what?" Asta was alternating pushing against his fingers, then yelping as the sensation was too strong and pulling back.

That damned velvety chuckle of his again in her ear. "Say 'please' to Daddy," Loki prompted.

Thighs tightening against him as those fingers made another sharp twist, Asta moaned, "Please, Daddy, please? Make me feel better."

Those terrible, knowing fingers paused, then her dark husband whispered, "my pleasure, little girl." The Princess heard the long, satisfied moan escape her as Loki slid that thick, chilly cock inside her. "Oh, I've missed this," he groaned, "I've missed stretching you wide open..."

In the back of her mind, there were brain cells attempting to assemble and remind her they were in a hostile, pitch black world. Asta could dimly hear the giant hooves of Fryktløs crushing something. But the bottom half of her was too consumed with how good, how thick her husband's shaft was inside her and how it-

They both felt it at the same time, the Gods of Lies smoothly changing into his Johtunn form. Asta yowled at the pain of the sudden, graphic expansion inside her, changing to a greedy moan as those frigid, hard ridges started rippling up and down her channel. "Oh! Thank you," the Princess shamelessly keened, her back arching so far that Loki had to shift his arm to hold her. Her soft breasts were shaking against his polar chest, the sharp ridges and striations on the muscular surface rubbing her nipples relentlessly. Loki was still aware enough to chuckle as his wife came immediately against his Johtunn form. His knees shook briefly at the lava-like heat of her wetness, the clench of that blazing cunt against him. Blue, clawed fingers tightened on his wife's ass, feeling the eager spray of her violet marks follow his palms. The ecstatic yelp from her made him chuckle again. "You always love Blue Loki," he mused. "Is it my gigantic cock? That you're fucking a monster? All that chill inside that steaming hot cunt of yours?" An extra hard thrust made poor Asta shriek again. In the time of her short marriage, she'd never reconciled how so much pain could cause her arousal to expand tenfold. Her logical mind could never understand the gluttonous, desperate way she received her husband's dark pleasures and made them her own. Just as the fine balance of pain/pleasure was slipping into agony, Loki changed again to Aesir form, his cock pounding her faster. "Which Daddy do you prefer, little girl?" He was almost laughing, looping his arms under Asta's knees and stretching her painfully wide.

"Both... everything... mmmmm! Everything you give me, Daddy! Everything I have is yours, too- OW!" Loki was back to "blue," as his wife called it, and laughing uncontrollably.

Neither husband or wife could have said later how long Loki fucked his writhing, screaming wife, braced against a thick root, or how many times they came together. But in the end, they relaxed, crumpled in the grass as it seemed dawn broke. Fryktløs sat down heavily beside them, fixing Loki with a stern side-eye as the God leaned against his flank, holding a dozing Asta in his arms. "Don't even start," groaned his master, giving him with a glowering smile right back. "Not after how I waited half the day for you and that mare in Vanaheim."

Fryktløs huffed suspiciously like a chuckle, and the two males rested, waiting for the exhausted and satiated female to wake.


	34. Task 2: Awakening The Twins

Task #2: Awakening the Twins

Summary:

In which a Father and Mother meet their Sons.

Notes:

This part makes me cry, although I suspect my creepy mom hormones are wildly off-kilter.

Chapter Text

When the battle finally came to Asgard, it was far worse than anyone could have imagined. A violent gash in space sent a gigantic troop led by the Demon Surtur and his vile captains into the countryside. Not at the palace, of course, where there were troops upon troops ready to fight. The Demon chose the next biggest city to rip through everyone alive as if tearing through paper.

The Undead had finally risen.

By the time Heimdall got word to Odin and Thor, the embattled town was in flames, and the unspeakable army was on their way to the capital city. The Allfather stood with hands limp to his sides, stunned that such horrors could land in their doorstep. Thor looked to his father for guidance, then raced out the entry of the palace, bellowing for the generals from the Aesir and Light Elf battalions.

"The Undead?" General Pastorus was never a man that Thor could tolerate, and his whining was setting off uneasy subordinates, muttering and rustling as they shifted. "We- we cannot fight them, Your Grace! We could never have enough soldiers! It takes 15 to 20 experienced men to take ONE of the abominations down! We don't even have-" Thor's big fist crashed against the man's cheekbone, knocking him over and sliding two meters across the marble floor before being stopped by a wall with a thud. King Leafstred smiled approvingly, his sharp cheekbones raised by his pleasure in the man's finish.

Breathing heavily in his fury, the God of Thunder raised himself up. "ANYONE ELSE WISH TO RESIGN THEIR POST?" He looked magnificent, furiously gripping Molinjer. The courtyard was dead silent- every face struggling to not show their shock and fear at what was to come.

"Your _former_ general was a fool." Alaryah's calm voice amplified through the military men. Addressing the crowd but looking at Thor, she continued. "I have fought the Undead." A low, suspicious drone fluttered through the warriors, quelled by a furious glare from the Prince. The Warriors Three and Sif casually circled the group, leaning in to examine the rattled troops. "Yes, they are very difficult to destroy," the Dark Elf admitted, "but not impossible. Much ground is lost from the initial panic, they're fearsome, horrifying to behold. But they are just _meat_." Her voice was even and cold. "Train your men to not respond, to not lose hope and we are halfway through to victory." She walked over to Fandral and gave him a saccharine smile. She was the one female he found too fearsome to even stand next to, much less attempt to seduce. "Sir Fandral will act as your guide." Alaryah briskly flipped him around, seizing him by the scruff of the neck like a disobedient puppy.

Thor leaned back and hid a smile as poorly concealed chuckles ran through the group.

"Remember, the Undead are merely meat puppets." Alaryah shook poor Fandral in emphasis. "They do not fight with intelligence or skill. They simply keep swinging their swords until spelled to stop." Pulling her dagger, the Dark Elf held it to the base of Fandral's skull, enjoying his quickly concealed yelp. "Send your weapon here- sever the spine from the brain and they collapse, sent back to Hel. The second choice is beheading the meat sacks, but this risks us all. These things can still use their teeth. If they bite you, you _will_ die." A low groan swept through the men and she shook her head. "You will not rise as an Undead, it is a spell that commands them." Alaryah waited a beat, then smiled broadly. "But you would still deprive the adoring crowds their chance to hail your victory."

The laugh that rippled through the ranks this time was harder, more defiant. Hogun looked over at Thor and nodded subtly. The Dark Elf was turning the tide on the panic.

"So, if you must behead them, crush the skull!" the elf emphasized, putting two clawed hands into Fandral's carefully coiffed hair and squeezing.

"Lady Alaryah, do not crush the empty skull of my warrior!" A voice rang out behind them, silencing everyone as they moved as one body to kneel to their King. Odin was fully armored, magnificent in his authority. "Though witless, I need his strong sword hand." The Allfather strode forward to stand by his son, gripping his shoulder. "Take what the Lady has taught you and return to your units. Our time is short."

Unfortunately, Odin was correct. The Undead needed neither food or rest, implacably marching forward as their Demon lords howled and gibbered. King Surtur roared like a jackal. "Onward, you worthless fucks! You feed on Aesir flesh tonight!" The maddened screech rose above their dust, sending animals nearby bashing headfirst into trees and over cliffs, driven insane in their race to get away from the Things.

Asta rose from her doze with a start, horrified that she could have slept during the most important task of her life. "Hush, darling," soothed Loki as he brushed the hair from her face. "You're safe, everything is calm again."

His wife shook her head. "But to sleep at such a time-"

The Prince kissed her, shutting off the flow of anxious words. "It's all right." Loki's big hands cradled her face as he smiled down at her wide eyes. "We can't control time in this place, we must simply carry on, yes?"

Reluctantly nodding, Asta gave him a determined smile and looked around them. It was daylight again and they looked as if they'd not moved a step. "Ignore what you see," her dark husband cautioned, "we cannot control the illusion, only our ability to withstand it." Giving Fryktløs a loving pat, the girl straightened her loosened bodice and ignored Loki's knowing grin.

"Then let us move on," she said, starting down the path.

The Prince fell into step beside her. "What do we search for next, love?"

Asta smiled, suddenly hopeful again. "The ether that holds the Well of Urd."

Night fell over the palace and the ocean of troops that guarded the city. Heimdall sent hourly reports on the nightmare horde's movements as Odin's lieutenants raced from troop to troop. Thor's red cape billowed behind him as a rising wind heralded Surtur and his monstrous army. "A relief to see the Allfather find his testicles again." Alaryah stepped beside him, looking out over the city.

"You realize such talk is treason, punished by execution here in Asgard." he automatically replied.

A completely uncharacteristic chuckle came from the Dark Elf, his blonde eyebrow rose as he looked at the woman. "Executed. Six of one, half dozen of the other, Prince."

Thor broke into a reluctant grin. "Perhaps not my most fearsome threat, given the situation. His face sobered again. "It's just the two of us now." He shifted, leaning a hip against the stone balustrade. "Will we survive this battle?"

The Dark Elf stared out over the city, the shadows throwing her sharp features into lovely detail. "We must. Or there is nothing left of us." Nodding to Thor, she turned and walked away.

This time, it was Asta who strode confidently forward, her steps growing lighter as their surroundings grew misty and insubstantial. She finally halted as their path ended at a gigantic river- unimaginably huge, the opposite bank nowhere in sight. As Loki joined her, he realized it wasn't water, rather a flow of matter, an exquisite pale green, foamy and light. "Beautiful..." He shook his head in amazement, "like the Nile."

"The Nile?" His wife tilted her head to gaze up at her towering spouse.

Loki collected himself and looked down to her. "It's a river in a desert land on Midgard. It flows through the driest region of that planet, bringing life to a fourth of the people there. It's color..." He looked out on the shimmering river, "it's a green that I've never seen anywhere else, the color of life, the green of the Nile. The very shade before us."

Asta was rooting around in her bag. "The flow of ether atoms are the basis of all creation. We must create the material here to restore our sons." She turned, holding something in her hands- it was the little sapling gifted from the tree in the Light Elves ancient garden.

Loki touched it reverently. "You told me this little tree could bring life back from the-" he choked, trying to continue, "-from the dead."

"If their life's purpose was left unfulfilled," prompted Asta, her hands holding his. "Standing as the Twin Towers against Ragnarok. Barring the End of All Things."

Nodding, her husband squeezed her hands. "Tell me how to help."

The couple knelt at the ether river, gathering some of the Nile green substance to mix with the finely chopped stem. The two purple leaves left on the little branches after collecting what was needed to save Thor's life, performed their trick again, expanding to hold the contents, the mixture of ether and the sapling. Carefully wrapping them both into packages held by the leaves, Loki and Asta knelt over them, hands hovering over the precious little bundles. "We must picture our babies now," Asta smiled, but it faded. "They... they will not be babies anymore. Our sons will be sixteen." Loki's heart sank, his dream of holding his infant sons, watching them at their mother's breast slipping away. His wife gave him a determined smile. "But they will be ours. Our sons."

Loki ran his hand down his beautiful wife's cheek. "That is what matters, my sweet girl. What now?"

"Picture them first." A shy smile crossed her lips. "I always thought they would have your lovely, long legs, strong arms, and broad shoulders."

Taking a shuddering breath, Loki added "your full lips, and beautiful, perfect soul..."

"...one with eyes like an emerald," Asta continued, "the other a dark gold."

Her dark husband chuckled, "Brilliant, of course. Like their parents."

Asta finished. "Guardians. Brave." The vivid picture of their sons appeared in front of them- flowing ebony hair, a tangle of long legs and pale skin. The twins were dreaming, slight smiles on those perfect faces. Grasping on to each other, the parents trembled and wept at the sight of their beautiful children.

"My boys..." Loki could barely choke out the words. "What now, sweet wife?"

Asta smiled, her face lit with an incandescent joy. "We must name them. I... I always loved Havardr."

"The Highest Guardian," Loki nodded. "All right. And for his twin- Hammond. The God's Protection."

As they spoke the names, a thunderclap shook the flow of the river around them. Their son's eyes opened.

Thor and his father stiffened as the first horns sounded. King Leafstred nodded to them both. "I must go to my warriors," he said gravely. "To life, my brothers." The screams from the city were already rising as the troops raced to their positions. Looking at each other, the men threw their arms around each other, hugging tightly before letting go. "It's time." Odin's face was already in the set, majestic intensity that signaled battle, and the sight relieved Thor greatly.

"Yes, Father." he said with a smile, "we will see each other after the defeat of the Demons and their meat puppets."

Odin took to his horse and raced off, Thor took a deep breath and then doing the same.

Despite Alaryah's tutoring, the first glimpse of Surtur's nightmare army roused a cry of dismay from the battle-hardened troops, but the sharp reprimands of their captains held them steady. For those involved in the fight against the Dark Elves, they held some confidence that they knew what they were up against. But the lurching piles of flesh were unspeakable. Horrifying. But with the battle horns blaring, to a man the Aesir and the Light Elf troops raced through the gates, howling their defiance against the beginning of the end. For Thor and the Warriors Three, the battle was a blur of offal and black blood. Heeding the warnings, they swirled and struck against the back of the Undead, severing the spinal cord and watching them drop like a rock. Thor began swirling Mjolnir faster and faster as the demons caught on to what they were doing. Standing before his troops, The God of Thunder slammed the hammer down, creating a shockwave in front of them that threw the invading army up in the air, and then slammed into the earth. A cheer rose up, the Aesir racing to take advantage of the moment to down as many of the enemy as they could. The shouts of encouragement died as a horn sounded- a vile, nauseating sound that screamed like the death of a loved one, cursed like the cruel fists of a monster, gurgled like the last breath of a dying man. Thus came the second wave of the Demons and the Undead, led by the loathsome countenance of King Surtur. Even Thor's heart nearly stopped. There were waves upon waves of walking death coming at them, thousands- tens of thousands more than they imagined. The flow of death poured over the hills and forests surrounding the city. In every direction. Thor suddenly found himself looking around frantically, seeking the face of a loved one before the final battle. He caught the Dark Elf's, standing close with her own battalion. Her black eyes stared back, and they suddenly nodded together, comforted to see each other in the last.

The misty surface of the river of ether cleared, then hardened into a pathway for the shaking parents to approach their children. The eyes of their sons watched their approach, still caught in their stasis, but with huge smiles as they gazed on Loki and Asta. Stepping to her ridiculously tall son, already nearly 8 feet with his emerald eyes twinkling, the Princess smiled. "My beautiful boy. I'm so... your Mother is so happy to see you." Carefully placing her precious little bundle of ether and sapling in his hands, she said gravely, "I name you Havardr." Her hands closed over his as a green glow spread between the two of them, the strain of sending her healing energy nearly breaking Asta.

"Mother," his voice was beautiful, just like his father's. Melodious and kinder than his sire's, Havardr rose to his full height, stretching gratefully. He stepped to hold his weeping mother in his arms. "We have waited for you. We knew you would come. We always knew."

Loki's walk was less steady than he liked, but he managed to make his way to his other son, who still smiling at his father in that gentle way, golden eyes glowing. "My son, I..." stopping for a moment, the Prince of Lies closed his son's hands over the second bundle, his own huge ones covering his child's as he spoke the truest words of his existence. "I name you Hammond. I have waited all my life to be your father." Loki's surge of emotion exploded the healing energy through his palms, shooting it into the bundle and then to the body of his child.

Hammond literally leaped up, jumping up and down gracefully before enfolding Loki in a fierce hug. "Father. Our first memory is that of your hands on us, holding us inside our mother. You always kept us safe."

The family gripped each other, touching faces, laughing disbelievingly. Their beautiful sons smiled with pride and joy at their parents. "We knew you would come," Hammond and Harvardr repeated together. "We always knew."

Notes:

In the real world, parents don't always get to save their children, no matter how hard they try. That's what fiction is for.


	35. Task 3: Defeat The Nornir

Task #3: Defeat The Nornir

Summary:

In which Asta and Loki face the daunting task of defeating the Three Sisters. Easy Peasy. Oh, and Thor has to hold off Ragnarok. No problem!

Notes:

Trigger warning for fairly visceral battlefield violence.

Chapter Text

Alas, because no joyful moment can hold suspended forever, it was only moments before a gale force wind began tearing over the green water. Everyone's heads jerked up from their embrace as a keening soared through the air, a shriek of rage that demanded blood.

"The Nornir come." Hammond said sadly. He stood in front of Asta as Harvardr did the same to Loki. "They will not touch you," Harvardr said coldly.

"My sons, we love you, but your father and I have dealings with the Three Sisters." Their mother gently pulled from her son's protection. "And you, my beloved boys, have a far more important role to play."

Loki could see how torn the twins were, looking at their parents in clear distress, then back to each other. "Hammond! Harvardr!" the prince spoke sharply as the twins were slow to end their silent conversation and look at him. "The final battle is already raging, and given that your Uncle is likely in charge, there is no time to waste!" Asta smothered a smile, watching her husband draw himself up into the imperious, arrogant prince who always got what he demanded. Loki called sharply, "Fryktløs!" Bracing his booted feet as the winds howled closer, he waved to his sons. "On Fryktløs and quickly- you must fulfill your role, my sons. The Nine Realms depend on you now."

Hugging their boys hard, Asta forced a smile to get lips. "But we just met you again," Hammond said mournfully.

"There is still work to be done here. You must go." Rising on tiptoe to kiss his soft cheek, she whispered, "We'll be along. You and your brother watch out for each other." The rising shrieks grew closer, and Loki shoved his sons aboard the neighing Fryktløs, clearly agitated, clomping down one giant hoof, then the other.

Leaning close to that massive black head, Loki spoke urgently. "We are all here in this moment, for this reason, my friend. I beg you- take our sons from here to Asgard. I must ask it of you, brother- please!" The animal regarded the Prince for a moment, then reared back, kicking his front legs out. If the son of the Horse God flew, no one could say how, only that a streak of light blazed across the landscape, and his horse and their sons were simply gone. Asta tugged at his arm, pointing up. Like a reverse meteor, the jagged bolt of light shot upwards.

Thor found himself knee-deep in Demon limbs and shattered chunks of the Undead. Asta's prediction that the dwarves would be cannon fodder proved correct. Despite their marvelous weapons and fine armor, the dwarves were no match for the Elven troops, who took the first position, along with Thor's unit and Odin's. The brief flash of hope as they decimated the second wave was quelled as the remaining Dark Elves not loyal to Alaryah swept through his men, crushing them easily. The terrible Undead fell on the Aesir warriors, swords knocking them to the ground and tearing bloody chunks of their flesh. Still chewing mechanically, the walking corpses turned for their next meal. Even the mighty Light Elves were dragged under by a dozen of the creatures, torn to pieces from the Undead's ravenous hunger

Thor swung Mjölnir fiercely, trying to protect as many of his soldiers as he could. Stumbling over the bodies of his own men, he heard a shrill tone over the noise of battle, so high and piercing it felt like his brain would leak out his ears. The Demons screamed in rage and pain at the noise. Suddenly, Alaryah's unit was beside his again, cutting down their brothers and ripping them to pieces. Thor suddenly realized why Alaryah insisted on red armor- so her soldiers could tell who the enemy was. Though Elves were known to fight silently and without expression, he could see the grief and remorse twist her lovely mouth as she decimated her own people.

But as many as they killed, stumbling among the piles of the dead to challenge the living and the Undead, there were always more monstrosities to take their place. Thor could see they were being driven back, step by step to the walls of Asgard. If Surtur breached those gates, it was over. Asgard would fall, and every Realm thereafter. A high, terrified whinny sounded close by, and the firstborn of Odin turned to see his father's horse fall, sending the Allfather crashing to the ground. And close- so close was the Demon King Surtur, slashing through the defense and his own men alike to get to the fallen leader. Thor roared with rage and frustration, still too far away to help.

Then, as if the black sky split open, huge forms came crashing onto the battlefield, blue swords raised. King Laufey and his Frost Giants had joined the fight.

Asta reached behind her and pulled the Is Sverd from its scabbard. "Loki, we must corner them in the Well- they cannot come to us!" she gasped urgently. "Can you take us there?"

Squeezing her hands urgently with his, Loki nodded. "Help me picture it- as vividly as you can." Struggling to keep standing as the winds punished them, the two closed their eyes, gritting their teeth in the effort.

When Asta's eyes opened, she found them in a huge room covered in coarse gray yarn, exquisite embroidery silks and serviceable cords of all colors. Before them flowed the great Tapestry- an endless river of shade and pattern that flowed on and on, far beyond what she could see. A pained howl from Loki made her spin around to see a massive, rusted sewing needle jammed through his collarbone to get past his armor. The stinking bundle of rags holding it was shoving down with all her might, trying to reach his heart. Urd was hissing like a snake, "Stupid creature daring to challenge us! We'll rip you to pieces and feed you both to Jorumund!"

It took a second to race to the struggling figures, Asta raising the Jötunn sword to slice at Urd's scaly form. The Norn screamed, falling back as the blue blade ripped through her body. Loki hissed, pulling the long needle up and out of his chest, shoving it into the crone's left eye. The crone wailed shrilly and thrashed violently, rolling away from them, screeching "Siiisteeers! The things hurt meee!" Loki staggered up, clutching his bleeding shoulder to see his wife scrambling over the tapestry, desperately searching for something. Biting his lip as he wrapped a piece of his shirt over the bleeding wound and staggered after her. Asta was frantically rubbing something on to the threads leading into the latest part of the pattern. A huge hand reached out and grasped her hair, yanking violently backward and tearing the Progeny's thrashing body up and out of sight. Landing on a pile of jagged rocks, she desperately gripped the Jötunn sword as the twisted face of Verandi leaned over her.

"Bitch! Hurting the sister! I'll tear you in half!" The furious hag's clawed fingers slashed at Asta's cheek, ripping open four bloody furrows in the girl's cheek. Screaming, she drew up her sword, slashing at Verandi. Loki scrambled to help her, stepping over the thrashing, wailing form of Urd, still trying to pull the needle from her eye.

Asta spared him a glance and shook her head. "No! You must stop Skuld before she cuts Hammond and Harvardr's cords! She threads the future!" She was knocked back by another swipe from a shrieking Verandi- but this time, her claws struck Asta's sword arm and bounced off the violet patterns on her skin as if the girl was wearing armor. "Of course..." Asta groaned, parrying again and trying to cut the crone off at the knees as she concentrated, sending the violet markings of her husband's Jötunn self everywhere on her skin, making the Norn's attack weaker. The tiny, desiccated bodies of the Sisters seemed so frail, like the dried husk of an insect. But the crones' strength was terrible, manhandling even the seven-foot Loki like a child. Verandi's talon jabbed at Asta's face with a curse, and the bloody claw marks opened wider, blood streaking faster down her white face, pouring over her neck and chest.

Loki's long legs ate up the distance between him and the third sister, who was scrabbling over the tapestry with her deadly scissors in hand. One huge hand flashed out with a viciously sharp dagger- he was so close- he could stop that wizened bitch and she would never hurt their- "HALT!" the triumphant howl of Skuld stopped everyone short in their struggles. Her claw was clutching her horrid rusty shears, gigantic and rusted as if blood were dripping down the blades. "How DARE you enter here! Do you alter our weaving? Do you struggle against your fate? You are _nothing_!" Skuld was screaming now, a giant vein pulsing in her forehead, knuckles white as she gripped the scissors meant to cut their sons from the future. "You are _mayflies_ to us! We will have Ragnarok!" Loki held both hands up, trying to placate the Norn. Asta's shaking hands held firm on the Is Sverd, though the blood loss was beginning to make her vision dim. She forced herself to take some of her flagging strength and close the wound. "So," Skuld grinned triumphantly, exposing three hideous, black teeth. "We give you the choice, insects. Cut your cords? Or your sons?"

There was not a second's hesitation as they replied together. "Ours."

A ragged cheer rose up from the armies from the Free Realms as the Frost Giants began to slash their fearsome way through the enemy. Their blue swords sparked and sputtered light as the black blood covering them flew off, only to send the clean blade back into another. Thor renewed his fight to his father, Odin fighting on his own as his guard was slaughtered. King Laufey was closer, and the God of Thunder groaned as the Frost Giant's red eyes fell on the Allfather's predicament. Surely, he would stand back and watch his enemy's demise or even assist. Odin stole his son, held him, hostage, ripped away the body of his wife before Laufey could mourn her. There was a pause, then the blue King spun his sword and started cutting his way to the Allfather. "No!" groaned Thor, Laufey had every right, but not now, not when they're facing the end- "Not now!" he cried, voice hoarse with anguish. He frantically swiped Mjölnir right and left, trying to move closer as he watched the Demon Surtur approach from Odin's front, King Laufey to his back. All sound blocked from his mind, only the hazy, bloody images in front of him registering as he tried to stop the inexorable death of his father come closer and closer. King Surtur was howling- an insane jackal's voice as he raised his jagged sword to engage Odin, already fighting three others. But behind the besieged King of Asgard swung an impossibly long, blue arm, swiping viciously at Surtur and driving him back.

"Coward!" screamed the Demon. "Joining with the weak! You could have been a God in our world!" He parried frantically, black blood flying as he sought to overcome the Frost Giant.

But King Laufey sliced Surtur's sword arm clean from his body, the demon squealing in shock and pain. A gigantic booted foot slammed down on the Demon King's throat as the blue behemoth towered above him. "I already _am_ a God. And you are the pestilence I wipe clean from this Universe." Surtur's head was severed in a moment, then crushed under that huge boot into pulp.

The death of the Demon King reverberated through the troops- the loss of their leader disorienting the demons and making their command over the dwarves and the Undead scattered. The Ljósálfar warriors renewed their attack on the endless stream of the walking meat, their beautiful faces indifferent and calm. Thor fought his way to shouting distance of the Frost Giant. "KING LAUFEY!" he roared. When the red eyes of the Jötunn fell on him, he bowed his blond head for a moment in respect. "The Undead-" he stuttered, "slice at the base of the skull to fell them."

A thin quirk passed the lips of Laufey, and he nodded back, both of them continuing the fight as Odin struggled to his feet, stunned by his rescue.

"Oh, the love of a father and mother for their children," cooed Skuld in her rusty purr. "So eager to give your life for theirs. Then I will enjoy this all the more. I cut theirs first!" She raised her horrid scissors high, cackling in her excitement. Loki and Asta cried out their desperation to see her lift two lines of silk, shimmering Nile green and twined with each other. But as her rusty blades came down, the slim silk strands refused to separate. Frowning, she tried again, and again. But still, the slender lifelines of their children held intact.

"Loki!" cried Asta, "Hurry! She will find ours to cut next!" Loki leaped over another pile of yarn and raised his blade against the crone, who was scuttling over the tapestry to another design. He tripped over a thick coil of embroidery silk that seemed to twine up from nowhere but threw his dagger as he fell. The vicious blade knocked Skuld off her feet, but she still stabbed at the Prince as he reached her, grappling for the terrible shears. Teeth gritted, Loki endured a stab into his left shoulder and another where the blades sank deep into his thigh. Asta desperately immobilized Verandi with a slash to her wizened legs, making the crone scream. The Progeny bent low, whispering as she focused with all her strength. "You're trapped in your own cords, layers after layers twining around your body, tightening each time you struggle. I do hope they don't crush your lungs... so terrible to not draw a breath..." She felt ashamed of herself, watching Verandi scream and gasp as she struggled against her invisible bonds. But she must hold. They must hold. Yanking her Jötunn blade from the sister and raced for her husband, stumbling over random piles of yarn and cord.

"I have her!" Loki hissed, digging another dagger into Skuld's leathery heart. "Find the lines for the Undead! We have to help Thor if we can."

Asta nodded, frantically running her hands over the tapestry, trying to find the threads that held the black spell. She finally spotted it, a loathsome pitch line, dripping with tar and offal. Raising the Is Sverd above her head, she brought it down on the line with all her strength, turning her face away as spurts of filth flew from the severed yarn.

Nearly every sword stopped for a moment when all the Undead on the massive battlefield dropped like the sacks of meat they were, boneless and returned to a corpse. It was like the invisible cord connecting them was somehow severed. Cheering, the Aesir and their allies fell on the enemy with new intent, driving them ruthlessly back from the palace walls. Hogun and Volstagg fought to reach Thor, Sif, and Fandral flanking Odin as they continued the rout.

The invading forces were in disarray. They still outnumbered the Allies two to one, even without their Undead soldiers. But the brutal finish to their King and General seemed to confuse them, milling like sheep.

For one naive moment, Thor allowed himself to hope, trading grins with Volstagg. This, of course, was a terrible mistake. With an earsplitting crack and the blinding rip through matter, the Mad Titan stepped on to the battlefield. When he spoke, it was unbearable, the screams of children, the wails of the dead, the howls of madmen.

"Excellent." Lofsjar chuckled, the sound making hardened soldiers vomit helplessly, shuddering and groaning. "All of you gathered together. You make my work so very simple." His great arms raised, dwarfing even the Frost Giants as he assumed his true form. "Kneel. Ragnarok comes with your true masters. They will feed on you, cattle. On your women and children. On every good thing in this Universe." Thor and Odin clutched each other, knees like water.

No sane mind could have imagined it. The unspeakable chaos began to swell, roaring over the massive battlefield, demons and Dark Elves falling screaming to their knees. The Allies were no better, the usually silent Hogun screaming in horror, Fandral thrashing wildly in the mud and blood. No one could look- no one could comprehend the boiling rolls of darkness coming at them, studded with horrors that crushed will and thought. The nauseating laugh of the Mad Titan rang out again. "Brothers! Join us for the End To All Things!"

Thor dropped Mjölnir, landing with a thud beside it. King Leafstred was gibbering in horror, long fingers beginning to claw at his beautiful face. Odin was the last man standing, shaking at the terrible black flood about to devour his world.

The gateway to Ragnarok was clear- a jagged tear through the Universe, boiling with arcane spells and energies. So the two boys walking towards it looked even smaller by comparison. But they walked confidently, long black hair blowing behind as they approached the gate. "Loki?" it was a mindless gasp of a word from Thor, trying to rise to his feet.

"Asta-my Progeny..." the Light Elf stepped beside him. The beautiful twins, mirror images of each other and their parents continued to the sparking, boiling mass. Rising to their full eight feet, they showed their Jötunn heritage, drawing a gasp from King Laufey.

"You will not pass." their voices blended as they took the hand of the other, gripping it tightly. Their beautiful harmonics soared over the din, audible to all of Asgard, reverberating to the Realms beyond. "You will not pass. There is no place for you here." The twins continued to rise, ten feet, twenty... "Return to your pit. You will not pass." Thirty feet high, they stood.

The howls and screams from the raging darkness changed, no longer greedy, now discontented and confused. The agony of Lofsjar's voice roared across the battlefield. "Boys? THIS is the prophecy, two pathetic children?" The Mad Titan's laugh sent thousands to their knees again.

The twins turned to face him, hands still clasped in their barrier. "Your time here is past, Old One. You are banished."

When Thor tried to explain the moment later, he could never find the right words.

Lofsjar's laugh stopped instantly as if strangled from his throat. The Mad Titan began folding in on himself- one giant arm flopping into his chest with a hideous "crack!" Next was the other arm. Then both legs, the air filled with the nauseating cracks and pops of shattered bone and torn sinew. The Titan's eyes were huge with the terrible knowledge of what was happening to him until his head viciously ripped down and into his chest, a huge square of writhing, torn flesh spinning faster and faster until it tore loose from the ground and was sucked back into the nightmare void. The twins faced back to the gateway, both heads down and feet planted as if against a mighty wind. Teeth gritted, jaws clenched against the force against them until it all folded in on itself and spun out of existence. The massive rip into their world began to heal, the twins holding up large hands to guide the tattered ends together.

Sight and sound returned to the battlefield as sunlight illuminated them again. Thor, Leafstred, and Laufey gave orders to their men to gather hostages. The Healers raced on to the bloody plain, finding those to be saved. But their leaders could do nothing but stare as the two young men walked to them, huge smiles wreathing their expressive faces. "Grandfather," said Hammond gravely as they gave a deep bow to the Light Elf. Leafstred nodded, throat choked with sobs. The twins turned to the Frost Giant, bowing again. "Grandfather," Harvardr uttered respectfully. King Laufey's jaw dropped, but his red eyes glowed as he nodded back. A brief glance ran between the boys before they faced Odin. "Your Grace..." Hammond's voice was redolent of Loki's silky, mocking undertones. They bowed to a silent Allfather, and turned to greet Queen Frigga, blood streaked across her cheeks from tending the wounded.

The Allmother raised her arms and embraced them both. "My beautiful boys..." her voice was thick with tears.

"Hello, Grandmother." Hammond said with a huge smile as they took turns lifting Frigga off her feet in enthusiastic hugs. Then the twins stepped to Thor with their father's mischievous grin on their lips. "Uncle!" Harvardr said happily, "our father said you were likely in charge and that we had no time to waste."

Thor was aware of the low chuckles around him and shook his head ruefully, embracing his nephews. "You're definitely Loki's sons." After ending the embrace and much clasping of hands and slapping of shoulders, Thor suddenly looked around. "Where _are_ your parents?"


	36. The world turned sideways, in reverse

In which Asta and Loki learn something about sex and violence.

In her mind, Asta had prepared for this moment, over and over again. Everything in the Light Elf abhorred violence and death. But she knew the choice was unavoidable. So why couldn't she do it? "ASTA!" shouted Loki. "What are you _doing?"_

His wife looked back with anxiety and terror on her face. "My husband," she gasped, "the only way to truly stop Ragnarok is to finish them. How can we _do_ such a thing?"

Loki howled as Skuld stabbed at his neck with another rusty needle. "You must!" he roared, "or they will finish us and everything we love. DO IT, ASTA!"

Groaning, she mentally tightened the binding on Verdandi till her ribs cracked, blocking out the crone's scream. Crawling over the tapestry, Asta raised the Is Sverd and brought it down on Skuld's neck. The brilliant blue blade slashed through the hide and sinew of the Norn, but the severed head laughed. "You cannot kill us, insects! We will tear you apart and your children-" Loki's booted foot shot out and kicked her like a macabre child's ball, watching her roll past his wife.

Asta was shaking with the effort of holding back Verdandi and Urd. "I don't know the spell- I need-"

Cool, strong hands grasped hers. "I am here," Loki's voice was low and deceptively calm, forcing his wife to focus. "Tell me."

Looking at the incalculable length of the tapestry, Asta said, "I need to have the weaving reversed. To the beginning. Is there any spell powerful enough?" Loki's groaned internally. His sweet wife was the only person in his life who always looked to him with complete, unalterable faith. It was the expression he saw now on her beautiful face, and he _must_ find a way.

Taking her shoulders, the Prince squeezed them hard. "We must hold, Asta. You must not let go." She nodded vigorously and Loki wasted a moment to kiss her blood and dirt-streaked face. The most powerful master of magic in Asgard pushed through the hundreds of thousands of spells, arcane and ancient cluttering his mind. "Asta, do you remember the runes you spoke as you stepped sideways from the Realm and left our world?"

"Yes, but-"

Loki hushed her. "Just keep reciting the spell, over and over again. Do not stop." He watched her pink lips begin to shape the arcane words as he drove through his exhaustion to recite his own.

It was agonizing.

Asta thought _nothing_ could be as painful as what she'd endured in the Black Court, but in the moment, she would have gladly chosen the former to _this_. Blood began beading at her husband's emerald eyes, pouring from his nose and mouth. Loki saw her terror and managed to grit out one word. "Hold."

With a grinding roar, the vast cavern pulled itself somehow sideways, in reverse. Asta found herself standing on the east wall, Loki hanging vertically from the ceiling. Swallowing against her nausea, the Princess found the threads she needed: three thick cables wound against each other. Steel gray- stronger than titanium, the cables bled into the beginning of the tapestry, winding like bloated worms in and around the millions of other threads. Raising her wedding gift from the Jötunn, Asta slammed down on the coils with all the rage and horror and pain of her empty womb and their stolen sons. There was a blinding flash and the unearthly, cheated screams of the Nornir. Then the world righted itself and they were alone in the mountain of tangled yarn and silk.

Asta wavered for a moment, then launched herself at her dark husband. She meant to kiss Loki with love and relief, but he jerked back slightly as she bit his lower lip, adding to the crimson stream running down his chin. His huge fist found its way into Asta's snarled hair and Loki yanked her tender scalp hard, exposing her neck. She moaned in a guttural, helpless way as her husband's white teeth latched on to the soft skin there, drawing blood. The girl's hand grasped against his armor, dragging down greedily to his crotch. Loki was already hard, hugely swollen and pushing against the leather fastenings of his pants. All she could manage was a shuddering gasp as Asta pushed and pulled at her tall husband, trying to make him lie back. There was no coherent thought, only the drive to climb onto his lovely, thick cock and do it _now_.

Giving a half chuckle, half groan, Loki yanked his greedy wife's hands away from his crotch and flipped her over on to her back on the piles of embroidery silks scattered around them. Asta gratefully spread her legs, arching hopefully against that thick part of him until her dark husband shoved a hard thigh between hers to hold her still as Loki pulled at her skirts, dragging them up and tearing her silks loose. He felt her heaving chest against his and thought vaguely that he should kiss his sweet little wife, soothe her with words... but instead, Loki ripped open the leather covering over his cock and shoved it into her. Gritting his teeth against Asta's shriek, he put his mouth back on hers to silence her and began rutting against her wildly. After a moment, Loki felt her hands grip onto his ass, nails digging in as her hips kept trying to shove up against his. He hadn't even checked her to see if his wife was ready for him- but the violent plunging and arching between them was unstoppable. There was a roaring in his ears as he finally heard Asta speak, only to moan, "Harder! Please, harder, please..." Loki braced his feet against the floor, pushing deeper into the searing warmth of his wife's pussy. He'd never fucked her this hard- the only clothes removed were those needed to get access to her cunt. But there was that sweet voice again, hoarse and demanding, still begging him, _"harder..."_

Asta was half-insane with desperation and need. Why wouldn't Loki _fuck_ her? It needed to be more- she needed all of him driving inside her. Her heels- still in her riding boots- dug viciously into his bare ass, helping those sleek hips of his to slam into hers harder. It hurt, it burned, his cock was freezing her inside- and it wasn't _enough_. She bit against him again, his mouth, Loki's neck, his ear. There was something about gnawing on her mate that Asta needed, the feel of his flesh between her sharp little teeth. She could feel one of his big hands spread across her breast, squeezing it harshly. "More," she managed to groan, putting her hand over his. She was being shoved back over the slick silks underneath them as her dark husband kept rutting into her, back arching and still crying out piteously for _more. _The world and everything around them shrank down to that part of them joined, wet and hot as Loki kept driving that huge and talented spear into her heat and tightness. He couldn't feel anything else, not even Asta's savage little bites or his hand squeezing her breast. Her heartbeat was so frantic he could feel it in the pulsing walls of her pussy, and Loki's began to match it in speed. The last thing Asta would remember was his warm hand sliding up her neck to press against it. "Come now, my greedy little bitch. Come all over my cock and soak it. Do it _now." _With an ear-splitting scream, his sweaty, incoherent wife obeyed him, her back arching into an impossible bow as she locked her thighs around his hips, pulsing sweet streams of slick and grasping his cock so tightly that Loki's come shot through him and coated Asta's pussy inside and out. They moaned and shuddered against each other, backs arching as the orgasm burned from the nerve endings of one to the other, passing back and forth until the couple was left twitching, wet and exhausted.

It was some time before Asta could even remember where they were, much less her utterly appalling and whoreish actions. Burying her face into Loki's sweating neck, she tried not to cry. "What?" he asked, still panting, "what is it, my beautiful little savage?"

Groaning as he felt her hot tears against his cheek, Loki smoothed her wildly tangled curls. "I'm so sorry!" Asta sobbed, "I don't know what's wrong with me! I- I- I _bit_ you! I grabbed at you like an animal!"

Petting her for a moment as she wept, the bloodied prince tried not to notice that her anguished shaking was having an interesting effect on his dick, mainly rousing it from it's exhausted state. "My sweetheart- darling- you've done nothing wrong." Loki's cock was beginning to swell inside her again, and he talked faster. "Asta, love... you have to understand. This is very common on the battlefield. The separation between the passion of violence and the passion of fucking is very close. I've seen men and monsters alike tear each other apart, still sporting gigantic erections. The feeling of victory over your enemies... it's absolutely carnal. You're a magnificent warrior, and you're simply responding like one. As your husband and fellow soldier, I'm very happy to be on_ this_ battlefield with the woman I wish to be impaled on my cock. Far more so than my traditional battle finish, with my idiot brother waving that dick of his to anyone who could not escape the experience." He was gratified to see his weeping wife relax and start to smile.

"Ugh. To finally defeat the enemy and your only reward is Thor wielding his... Mjölnir?" To his utter shock, Asta began giggling at her own little dirty joke. Pulling her over him, Loki settled her sticky thighs on either side of his.

"Really..." that voice was back, that dark, dangerous tone that Asta knew meant trouble. "My sweet wife is more interested in my brother's... weaponry than mine?"

Bringing her hand down to fondle the base of his dick still buried inside her, Asta soothed, "With the fearsome size of the armament buried inside me? There's no room for _anything_ else, my darling." Loki felt his bride begin that sinuous circling of her hips against his buried cock and groaned. And he thought Asta was demanding when she was with child... It was the last coherent thought for some time. When the God of Lies finally regained consciousness, he found Fryktløs standing over them with the most judgmental expression an animal could possibly wear.

"Really?" groaned Loki, painfully disengaging from his wife and covering her modestly. "_Really_? You_ do_ remember those two little mares in Nidavellir?" Fryktløs tossed his dark head with an insolent huff. "Don't you dare," snarled his master, waking Asta and getting to his feet. "Three days! Three days I waited for you, you equine slut!" Gently placing his exhausted wife on his friend's saddle, Loki kissed her swollen mouth. "Let's go home, my savage little soldier. Let me take care of you."


	37. Did You Know I Can Breathe Underwater?

In which Loki and Asta return home to their family.

And Thor gets laid. So, that's good. Also, Odin is still an asshole.

For an exhausted and over-orgasmed Asta, being taken by Frytklos from the Well of Urd and home to Asgard was remarkably similar to one of her husband's magical transports. For Loki, there was a moment of decisive anxiety as they passed the gargantuan serpent coiled back under Yaddrisall. How attached was Jormungand to the Nornir? But the guardian simply opened one yellow and glared. "My feast. Its best not forget."

"Never." promised the Prince of Lies with complete and utter certainty.

Returning the palace was surreal for them both. The battle was fought outside the city walls, and the gleaming halls seemed untouched by the horrors of Ragnarok. But the bloody and battle-scarred family that descended on them brought it all brought the war back into sharp focus. "How badly..." Asta trailed off, not sure how to ask Frigga about their loved ones.

The Queen tightened her arms around her daughter in law. "Your beautiful sons. They stood as the Twin Towers and drove back the End Of All Things. They saved us from Ragnarok."

"Mother!" Shouted Hammond, instantly followed by Harvardr's bellow.

"Father! At last!"

Asta launched herself at their sons, squeezing them and holding each handsome face in her hands as Loki's long arms seemed to encircle them all. "Your eyes..." their mother gasped. "Like the Nile..." Their sons' eyes had shifted from matching their parents to the translucent green of the ether river. It was yet another alteration of the children she'd been denied, and Asta wept, even as she patted their faces with a smile.

"Mother," whispered Hammond, "you are a Progeny. Who would know better about transformation? Please celebrate with us."

Drying her tears and nodding, his mother kissed Hammond's cheek, then that of Harvardr, who was swiftly describing the end of the Mad Titan to his father. "Excellent," Loki's face could have been carved from granite. "After the suffering Lofsjar caused your mother? Well done, my sons."

All the others who stood by respectfully to give the little family a moment began to swoop in, peppering them with questions about the Nornir and how they'd stopped the Undead. Watching Asta sway with exhaustion, Loki shook his head. "There is nothing more to fear, no threat. We will reconvene tonight." Odin's mouth opened as if to counter the statement when a cold look from Frigga closed it again.

As desperate as she was to hear the twin's stories, Asta forced herself back into the role of Mother and settled their sons in the chambers next to theirs. "Bathe," she urged, giving a pointed sniff to the black blood covering them both. "Bathe and change."

Loki laughed at their identical looks of disgust as Hammond and Harvardr finally noticed the offal covering their clothes. "Fastidious, like your mother and myself. We'll dine after." He turned and entered his rooms to find a trail of filthy clothing leading to their bathing chamber. Mindlessly yanking off his own, Loki stepped into the cool water, admiring the sight of his wife's breasts floating just above the water's surface. After gently kissing each pink nipple, the Prince turned to lay his head against her chest. Groaning as Asta's hands gently washed him, then slipped into his matted locks with soap, Loki said, "I have dreamt of this moment every night since we've been apart." His wife's ministrations slowed, and Loki knew she was thinking of his cruel words the night she left the palace.

Turning to her and sliding up to those pink lips, he kissed her, looking into her eyes. "Can you forgive me?" Loki asked gravely.

Asta smiled into his emerald gaze, seeing remorse written there for the very first time. "There is nothing to forgive," she answered, stroking his soapy hair. "We have made amends to each other if you recall."

That look of remorse melted into one of Loki's knowing stares, the one that told Asta that he knew all her dirty little secrets and intended to capitalize on every one of them. "Have I ever told you, wife mine, of a particular talent I possess?" Leaning close for a sharp bite on her earlobe, he whispered, "I can breathe underwater."

Watching the set, intent expression on her diabolical husband's face, Asta stuttered, "Oh! For- for how long?"

Pausing at the water's surface, Loki grinned ferally. "Long enough." His wife's head dropped back on the tiles as he slipped under the water.

Alaryah turned the corner of the massive hall leading to her rooms to find Thor slumped against her door. Not quite rolling those black eyes, the Dark Elf strolled forward. "And what stroke of great good fortune brings you to my door, Your Grace?"

Thor looked up then, and she nearly stepped back. His blue eyes were blazing, looking more like a falcon's than a God's. "I suspect I've handled you in entirely the wrong way, Elf." His tone was casual, but Alaryah's hackles went up.

"Handle me, my Lord?" she drawled, "I don't believe I've given you permission to do anything of the sort."

Thor's blond head tilted, eyeing her thoughtfully. "You will," he answered, sweeping her up into his arms. It might have been romantic if the God of Thunder didn't have Alaryah in a death grip. Kicking open her doors, the Prince paused to lock them, giving her a leer. Depositing the Dark Elf on her table, Thor pinned her hips down with one bulging arm.

"How dare you!" she hissed, "You have no-" Cut off abruptly as his other massive paw covered her mouth, Alaryah glared her outrage as he grinned unrepentantly.

"I do not have my brother's skilled way with words," he boomed, "but I have another talent that you will appreciate."

In quick succession, Alaryah was slammed on her back on the table, legs thrown ignominiously over Thor's massive shoulders, and a shockingly flexible tongue attacking her pussy. The Dark Elf's strong thighs angrily tried to crush the oafish blond's head, but blue eyes rose just over her mound to glare at her. "None of that, you slippery bitch." Two huge fingers pushed into Alaryah's canal, and she froze. Though the Black Court was clearly superior in every way, it was true their cock size didn't quite match up to certain Asgardians.

"Oh," she mumbled, staring up at the ceiling. "I'd forgotten that- oh!" A third thick finger joined the two inside her, wiggling in a delightfully arousing way. Greedily pulling her first orgasm from the Elf, Thor pulled off her filthy battle gear and looped both legs over his burly forearms.

"And now you will take me," he rumbled low in his throat. Before she had time to object, Alaryah felt the huge head of Thor's cock pushing roughly inside her. Standing in the middle of the room, his muscled arms dropped her onto his heated dick, then yanked her off again, only to plunge Alaryah's slick pussy back down on him again. It was rough, wildly unbalanced because Thor tended to wander the room while bouncing her briskly on his fat, slippery cock. The Dark Elf was speechless, mainly because the God of Thunder was tongue-fucking her mouth in the same rhythmic pace as his shaft was assaulting her pussy. But she was outraged, too. How _dare_ he- this muscled boor fucking her senseless- my, he certainly was...

Clenching her steel thighs. Alaryah began active participation, squeezing against that gigantic spear and rubbing her clitoris on the downstroke. Her efforts knocked Thor against the wall, shattering the painting there and leaving a crack in the stone. He was about to roar his disapproval when the Dark Elf bit his tongue. Knocking over a table, the God of Thunder fell against the opposite wall, nearly sending them pitching off the balcony into the gardens below. When his thumb and forefinger took hold of Alaryah's clit and began to pull with a bit more force than was comfortable, Thor grunted, "You'll want to find your pleasure now, because I'm about to soak that clutching little purse of yours."

Hissing, the Dark Elf bit into his neck with those needle sharp teeth of her people and they both fell over the edge into howling orgasms, managing to demolish her armchair and bureau in the process. "Fuck! Elf, stop squeezing me!" groaned Thor, "I'm losing feeling in my cock!"

"Not until I get-" grunted Alaryah, "every spurt of seed from this talented spear." To distract him, she reached down to pull on his scrotum, sending another roar through her door and down the hallway. Fandral and Volstagg, just returning from checking on Hogun in the Healer's room, looked at each other with a mix of horror and admiration.

"It sounds like the Elf is killing him," Fandral scowled, "should we attempt a rescue?"

Volstagg howled with laughter. "Not unless you intend to be her next victim, brother." The pretty blond knight shuddered and they moved faster to leave the bellowing behind them.

Notes:

Sorry, I had to throw Thor a bone. Get it? "Boned." HAH!


	38. Midnight and the NightBloom

Editor's note: I would like to thank all the readers who took the time to follow or like this story, and especially for your wonderful comments. That said, I've struggled with elements of this site- that I'm not allowed to answer comments back publicly in the comments section. Another is that readers write ugly, offensive, inaccurate comments and they're still posted on stories I worked so hard to write. And last, I've actually had a couple of white supremacists and one really scary guy who really, really hates women send messages so threatening that FanFiction grudgingly took them down. So... I'm done. I apologize for not finishing the story and you're welcome to visit me on Archive of Our Own to read the rest. Thanks again for your support, but this is ridiculous.

In which the concept of "family" grows larger...and so does Loki's...attributes.

Chapter Text

When the extended family was called together that night to feast and celebrate, Odin was shocked to see Alaryah and King Laufey included. When he hissed at his sons, demanding an answer, they stood together, shoulder to shoulder for the first time in years. "Laufey saved your life," Thor said, making some effort to keep his voice low.

"And as told by my brother and all your Generals," Loki drawled in the annoying way he knew the King hated, "the Frost Giant's entrance into the battle saved the day." Eyes narrowed, he stared the Allfather down. "He's earned his place here."

Odin's anger raised to a pitch that actually made the marble floor beneath them rumble, but he forced himself to calm. "Everyone be seated."

Asta divided her questions between the Kings Laufey and Leafstred, then her sons, looking back and forth as if she was at a particularly challenging duel. There was much laughter at the table, everyone raising their voices to be heard, trying to gather information from each other. The room grew silent when Loki spoke of their adventures in the Well of Urd. The entire table was dead still, Odin having sent off the servants and the guards. Flicking one elegant hand to create a sound barrier to the outside, the Prince spoke of bargaining with Jormungan, twined in the roots of Yggdrasil. "The size of the meal will be incalculable," Loki chuckled, "I suggest we all shoulder the burden- the serpent looked _very_ hungry." Jaws dropped in awe as Asta talked about the river of ether, how they woke their sons.

"But, how?" Frigga's lovely brow wrinkled, "how could you _find_ them?"

Loki's emerald eyes glowed as he gazed fondly at his wife. "Because Asta _knew_, with unwavering faith."

Smiling back at him, she looked again at their sons. "We saw you, everything about you. And you woke."

Attention turned to the twins, everyone clamoring to know more about what happened. "We felt being torn from our mother's womb," Hammond said thoughtfully, squeezing Asta's shaking hand. "Then immersion into the river of ether, flowing around us. The Nornir would come to look at us, sometimes. But they never spoke."

Havardr interrupted, "But we were together, we could speak, feel... we could see."

King Leafstred finally leaned forward. "What? What did you see?"

The twins smiled- a long, vulpine smile that looked exactly like their father's. "Everything." they answered together.

After another several rounds of wine- which Asta refused to allow the twins to drink- talk turned from the battle and those lost to the sensitive question of the Nornir. "I don't understand," Odin spoke sternly. "How? How did you escape the Three Sisters?"

Asta looked at Loki, and they seemed to converse silently for a moment before she nodded her agreement. Looking around the table, Loki spoke in his coldest, most Prince-like tone. "This must not leave this room on peril of destroying everything we've fought for." Waiting for the nods of assent from everyone gathered, he sighed and spoke, "The Nornir are dead."

Pandemonium erupted around the room, even those considered Gods themselves shocked by the news. "They do not rule our lives," Asta said clearly, stopping the babble. "They sought Ragnarok, and they would not have stopped until they had it. The Nornir were tired, I think. They craved their end, along with taking all the Nine Realms and the universe with them."

"But how..." boomed Thor, "how do we continue? They sewed the threads of our existence!"

"Look around you, brother," Loki swept one arm wide. "The Nornir are dead. But here we sit, everything the same. They may have created us, but they no longer _control_ us. Every man now controls his own fate." There was a stunned silence for a moment, as even the most powerful and entitled of the Nine Realms pondered the wild freedom of such a statement.

As everyone bid goodnight, ready to return to their own rooms, Loki stepped up to King Laufey, looking him in the eye. "Better late than never, Your Grace." Only a corner of his mouth quirked, and to the Prince's fascination, Laufey's expression was identical as his thin blue lips curled slightly.

"Timing is everything, boy." the King's voice was dry, but his red eyes still ran over Loki's face. "Tomorrow..." The huge man stirred restlessly, the chill coming off him in waves. "Tomorrow, we can speak of your mother, if you wish."

His pale face was still before the Prince gathered his composure. "I would like that," he finally managed.

Asta forced herself to walk up to Alaryah, who was standing by Thor. Swallowing against her dislike, the princess managed to say, "I misjudged you. I know that you turned the tide in the battle against your own people, against the Undead. I apologize for my actions."

The Dark Elf eyed her carefully, before bowing slightly. "It is for me to apologize, Princess. I was cruel."

Thor's jaw dropped to hear such a statement coming from the harshest woman of his acquaintance, and Asta peered curiously at his open mouth. "Brother, you've lost a front tooth? Was that in battle? You should have the Healers look at that."

Shifting and feeling his sore balls chafe at the movement, the God of Thunder cleared his throat. "Heh. Yes, sister. I'll... uh... do that."

Once alone in their chambers, Loki pulled Asta onto their balcony, kissing her thoroughly. "Look around us," she marveled, it's as if nothing happened here, as if the arrival of Ragnarok never took place." It was true, the Prince mused.

Reaching up, Loki plucked a blossom from a nearby branch. "Do you know what this is, darling?" he purred, holding it up for his wife to smell. It was a lush white flower, shot with streaks of purples and lavender. "It's a NightBloom," the Prince continued, "the petals only open on the light of the new moon." Loki's grin was feral as he watched her lashes flutter over those golden eyes, as she took another deep breath.

"Heavenly..." moaned Asta, "so sweet..." Loki's long fingers slipped into her hair, loosening it from her proper princess setting, sending the inky curls tumbling down her back to her waist.

Her husband's voice whispered into her ear, silky as sin. "And the taste of the nectar," the Prince purred deductively, "unimaginable. Open your mouth, Pet." Blindly obeying him, Asta moaned as a sweet pearl from the base of the flower dropped to her tongue.

"Ohhhh..." she moaned blissfully. "So perfect, my Intended, you must try it..."

Had her eyes been open, Asta would have seen the lupine sheen in Loki's eyes, with an expression of savage possession on that pale face. But her dark husband's beautiful, cultivated tones were nothing but tender. "You must share with me, Pet," he urged. "Place the stem between your lips, just so- and now darling, suck." Those amber eyes would have shot open suspiciously if the next drop of nectar hadn't landed on her lower lip, drawing an utterly wanton moan. Watching her suck harder, Loki groaned and rubbed his crotch, enjoying her cheeks hollow as she sought to suck out the rest of the luscious fluid. Transferring her pink lips from the stem to her husband's mouth, Asta's little tongue began tracing his lips and slipping between them, dragging a grunt from Loki.

Rapidly loosening her bodice, he began tracing the dripping end of the NightBloom over her stiffening nipples. "Oh!" Asta's back arched helplessly, "It's tingling- I feel- ohhhh..." the princess gasped into her first orgasm.

"As if those pink nipples were instead your lovely little bud?" Loki was beginning to growl, and he yanked off her dress and waved his hand for a pile of cushions, pushing his still spasming wife down. "And how would the nectar feel on your perfect pussy, hmmm?"

"OH! Oh my King!" Asta's unladylike shriek set off some doves in the tree, flapping to get away from these loud and bizarre creatures.

Growling again, Loki waved his elegant hand again and set a green silk scarf tied over his wife's mouth. "Bad girls who can't be quiet get the privilege taken away from them." He grinned at the shudder that went through Asta's entire body as he pulled the leather fastenings over his pelvis, pulling out his reddened cock. Hearing the girl's embarrassed thoughts about being naked and vulnerable as he leaned over her fully dressed, Loki murmured, "Dirty little girls should be naked all the time... would you like that, Pet? Collared and leashed to my side, this perfect body naked for everyone to see?" As he spoke, her dark husband idly swirled his thick fingers over her swollen lips, circling her channel and clitoris too lightly to do any good.

Trying to assemble her scattered wits into some form that could be useful, Asta ended up with more of a babble- 'But I'm a mother now and this is so wrong and _oh_ my King that feels _so_ good wait what if someone hears us ohnopleasedon'tevereverstop...' The desperate attempt to regain her senses was demolished as Loki rose to his knees, that powerful, long body blocking out the faint light of the moon, his shadow covering her. Asta helplessly watched as her diabolical spouse held his hard shaft in one hand while the other traced the nectar from the flower around his cock in a spiral.

Leaning down to her, the gold, feral glint of his wolf form was there, Asta could _see_ it- just behind the translucent emerald of his glare. Eyes wide, Loki's sweet wife could only shake her head as he hummed into her ear. "Now this lovely sap is going straight." Kiss. "Up." Kiss. "Your tender." Lick. "Molten _cunt_." She shrieked silently as that shockingly huge shaft shoved straight into her, the NightBloom's essence on Loki's generous cock sending the Princess into a heart-stopping orgasm. Grinning as he heard the shrieks of pleasure his wife wanted to utter, he kneeled back on his heels. Linking his arms under her knees, Loki roughly pulled her closer. A deliriously filthy stream of compliments purred in the Prince's deep, sonorous voice as he thrust faster. "Your sweet cunt is spasming against me, little girl. Daddy's going to have to push _very_ hard to keep inside that hot, clutching hole...you're rippling against me like steaming velvet..." Loki watched intently as Asta wailed helplessly into another orgasm, driven by that dark voice.

Flipping her over, the Prince laid his long, cool body entirely over hers, slipping a muscled arm around her hips, holding his wife still as he pushed into her again. The new position and the chilly drive of Loki's cock made Asta moan inside, "Too much! Daddy- oh! Please too much!" Instead, his arm tightened against her as the Prince sank his teeth into the back of her neck, shaking her scruff sharply. The connection suddenly made Asta feel what the man behind her did- the pull and clutch of her pussy, her soft skin. Loki went rigid, teeth still buried and drawing blood as he felt the scrape of his rough leather coat against her back, the ridiculous level of pain that was bringing pleasure inside Asta. The feelings ricocheted back and forth until they both felt the come boiling up that thick, chilly cock and into her fiery pussy. Loki howled, head thrown back as he felt his/her comings and pulsing and his/her comings again. Both shook and howled together against the pale touch of the new moon.


End file.
